Debt of Blood
by Speaker-to-Customers
Summary: SG-1 go through the Stargate and come out of an Illefarn song portal near Neverwinter just after the Wailing Death plague. An encounter with a young ranger and her half-orc companion leads them into a world of magic, monsters, and sudden and brutal death.
1. How The Heroes Die

Disclaimer: 'Neverwinter Nights' is the property of Atari, Bioware, Hasbro, and Wizards of the Coast Inc. Stargate: SG1 was created by Brad Wright and Jonathan Glassner and is owned by MGM Television Entertainment and Gekko Productions. Cierre was created by Ed Greenwood and Jason Carl.

Timescale/Spoilers: non-specific but somewhere late in the second half of Season 5, after 5.14 '48 Hours'. Spoilers to 8.18 'Threads'. Note: this story is a sequel to my 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer'/'Baldur's Gate 2: Shadows of Amn' crossover 'Tabula Avatar'. It should work as a stand-alone but please be aware that some things in Faerûn, especially the attitudes and alliances of some of the gods, have been changed by the events of 'Tabula Avatar' and no longer correspond with Forgotten Realms canon. Reading 'Tabula Avatar' first isn't essential but it certainly helps. Although 'Tabula Avatar' is incomplete it has reached a point at which the rationale behind the changes is becoming evident. There are no real spoilers in this story for the forthcoming chapters of 'Tabula Avatar'.

Warning: Chapter Two will contain scenes of torture that you may find disturbing. Adults only please.

**Debt Of Blood**

**Part One: How The Heroes Die**

Colonel Jack O'Neill scratched his nose and looked at the Stargate. "So, a new planet. Any Goa'uld presence?"

"We don't know yet," General Hammond said. "The MALP only went through two minutes ago."

Daniel Jackson frowned as he looked at the gate symbols. "That pattern was supposed to be a null. Blocked, buried, or destroyed."

"Well, it isn't any longer." Jack pointed at the active Stargate that was incontrovertible evidence that the gate at the other end was functional. "I guess somebody must have dug it up."

"Hmm. That implies a tech level high enough to permit leisure time and scope for intellectual curiosity," Major Samantha Carter remarked.

"Or they just dug it up by accident while they were looking for gold or something," Jack suggested. He turned to General Hammond. "How come we found out it was back in action, anyway?"

Hammond gestured in the direction of the senior chevron technician. "Harriman was re-running Major Carter's cold dialing program and going through old null codes for training drills. This time one worked."

"Do we know where it goes?" Daniel asked.

"Somewhere designated P3A-219, that's all," Hammond said. "We'll know more when the MALP starts transmitting."

"Receiving signal now, sir," Harriman reported. "Putting it up on screen."

The monitor displayed a picture that was clear but that shook as the robot exploration vehicle traversed the terrain. It was a snowy landscape with a scattering of fir trees. There was no sign of human habitation but marks in the snow could have been footprints.

"Oxygen content 21.02 per cent," Harriman read out. "Nitrogen 78.08, carbon dioxide 0.036, argon 0.81. Atmospheric pressure 14.67 psi. Low levels of background radiation. As close a match for Earth's atmosphere as I've seen. Just a touch more oxygen and the merest hint less carbon dioxide."

"Possibly pre-industrial," Sam mused.

"Gravity?" Jack enquired.

"0. 993 g," Harriman replied. "The temperature is fluctuating around one or two degrees above freezing."

"Warm clothing required but nothing extreme," Jack said. "It's not exactly Hawaii but it doesn't sound too bad."

"The MALP is right out in the open," Sam commented. "That's not what I would have expected if the gate had been buried."

"That's a good point," said Daniel. "Turn the MALP around, would you please, and let's take a look at the gate."

"Yes, Doctor Jackson," Harriman said, and obeyed.

"Hold it!" Jack, who had been lounging with his hip against the edge of a control console, snapped alert and stood up straight.

The camera was pointing at a corpse.

Daniel adjusted his glasses. "Is that a unas?" he asked.

Sam frowned. "There are similarities," she said, "but the brow ridges are much less pronounced and what I can see of the nose looks much more human. Visible ears, too, and it's a lot hairier than a unas. Less reptilian."

"That arrow sticking out of its back probably killed it," Jack observed. "I'd have thought a unas would have been tougher than that." His forehead creased to match Sam's. "Hey, could it be a cross between a unas and a human?"

Sam shook her head. "Not a chance, Colonel. Total genetic incompatibility," she said. "The Goa'uld could have bred the unas to produce a race more like humans, though. That would fit."

"Trading off some of the power and resilience for greater tool-using capability and the expressiveness that they seem to prize in us," Daniel added. "It's possible."

"I don't see them fighting with bows and arrows if the Goa'uld are still in charge there," Jack said.

"Unless the Goa'uld at the top stays in his palace and lets the slaves fend for themselves," Daniel suggested. "After all, someone must have dug up the Stargate."

"Yeah." Jack nodded. "I don't think we'll learn anything more from the dead guy. Turn the MALP round the rest of the way, Chief."

The camera view swung as the MALP turned to face in the direction from which it had come. The planet's Stargate came into view. It stood in plain sight on top of a low hill.

Daniel gave a low whistle. "If they dug that up," he said, "it must have been quite a burial and one heck of a digging job."

"Right," said Sam. "No way has that ever been buried." She pursed her lips. "That means that, if it was an inactive one, they repaired it."

"Look for the DHD," Jack told the technician sergeant. "I think we have a mission."

"Yes, sir!" Harriman maneuvered the MALP back along its original route. "I think I see a DHD, sir," he reported. "I'll move in closer."

"What's that?" Daniel tilted his head to one side.

"What's what? I don't see…" Jack began, and then he noticed the same thing as Daniel. Not something on the screen, but something on the MALP's indistinct sound relay. Half obscured by the whine of the robot's motors but just distinguishable. Singing. Several voices singing at once, raucously, more like a military unit sounding off than a choir.

"That sounds vaguely familiar," Sam commented.

"Yeah," Daniel agreed. "I can't place it, but I've definitely heard it before."

Jack nodded. "On one of the Classic Rock stations, I guess," he said. "It's Twisted Sister. _We're Not Gonna Take It_. Only not in English."

"Twisted Sister?" General Hammond's eyebrows climbed high. "What's that?"

"A metal band from the Eighties," Jack explained. He glanced at Daniel, saw the archaeologist's eyebrows climbing as high as Hammond's, and shrugged. "Hey, I was young once."

"I do not understand, O'Neill," Teal'c said, breaking his silence for the first time. "What is a twisted sister? Is a metal band a form of ribbon device?"

"A bunch of guys who made music, well some call it music, twenty years ago," Jack said. "Whoever is singing out there on that planet is singing one of their songs."

"Then they have been in contact with the Tau'ri," Teal'c deduced.

"Damn right," Jack confirmed, "and we'd better find out what else they picked up besides a rock tune." He looked at the General. "Right, sir?"

Hammond nodded. "Definitely. Doctor Jackson, can you identify the language?"

"It's not Egyptian," Daniel said, "or anything similar. European or Asian, I think. It should be easy enough to pin it down. After all, Jack knows what the words mean."

"I only remember the chorus," Jack said. "Chief, can you get a picture of whoever's doing the singing?"

"I'll try, sir." Harriman brought the MALP around in another turn. A figure appeared on the screen, close to the vehicle, and approaching fast.

"Human," Jack said, "and kind of wild looking."

The man was a tattooed savage, naked to the waist, with his head shaved except for a top-knot of black hair with twin feathers stuck through it. Despite the somewhat Native American style of his garb he had the facial features of a white man, with a bristling mustache across his lip, and his skin was pale with little evidence of a tan. He bore a large shield on one arm and wielded a battle-axe with his other hand. He closed with the MALP and brought down the axe.

The monitor flashed once and went blank. There was the crashing sound of another axe blow and then the loudspeakers fell silent.

"Oh, crap," Jack said. "Looks like the natives aren't friendly."

"He might have thought the MALP was some sort of monster," Sam suggested. "He was obviously a primitive."

"That doesn't tie in with reactivating the Stargate," Daniel said. "I postulate a technologically sophisticated elite, probably small in number, probably ruling over a larger group of primitives. The top of the social pyramid may well be a Goa'uld."

"That guy would have stood out like a sore thumb on Earth," Jack pointed out.

"Indeed," said Teal'c. "I am inconspicuous in comparison."

"So it had to be one of the elite who was here," Daniel deduced. "Quite possibly a Goa'uld."

"Doctor Jackson, work on the language," Hammond said. "The mission is on. Harriman, shut down the Gate. Briefing at oh-eight hundred hours."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

SG-1 emerged from the gate on P3A-219 and, as soon as they'd recovered from the momentary disorientation of gate travel, they surveyed their surroundings and moved to secure the site.

Daniel went straight to the DHD. "Oh boy," he said. Sam scurried to join him.

Jack groaned. "What is it?"

"These aren't the normal symbols," Sam said. "They don't look like anything I've seen before. The ones on the gate itself are the same. Completely non-standard."

"But you can decipher them, Daniel, right?" Jack said. "Please tell me you can decipher them."

"I guess it must be a local script," Daniel said. He bit his lip. "Uh, if I can find other examples, yeah, I can decipher it, no problem. With just this to go on… maybe, but it will take a long time."

"A long time? Just what do you mean by that? Hours? Days?"

"Months, maybe years," Daniel said.

Jack's mouth turned down at the corners. "I guess this time it isn't your fault that we're stranded on an alien planet. For once."

"Well, we know there must be a way off the planet," Daniel said. "Someone from here visited Earth."

"Or we're only twenty light years from Earth and they've just started picking up MTV signals from the Eighties," Sam added pessimistically.

"Oh, I don't think that's likely," Daniel said. "There aren't any Earth-like planets that close. Uh, there aren't, are there?"

"Just decipher the symbols, Daniel," Jack said. "I'd kind of like to be able to go home at the end of the mission. Would a naquadah reactor and an over-ride work?"

Sam shook her head. "I don't think so, sir. Not unless we can work out what at least some of the symbols mean."

"We must seek out the examples you need, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said.

Right," said Jack. "Okay, we'll take a look at what's left of the MALP and then move out."

The wreckage of the robot vehicle was plainly visible from the top of the mound on which the Stargate stood. SG-1 walked down and Sam examined the remains.

"The motor is beyond repair," she reported. "The manipulator arm is smashed and the camera unit is missing altogether. Maybe the primitive decapitated it and took the 'head' as a trophy. Or else someone more sophisticated salvaged it for the lenses in the camera. They'd be useful to any tech level above Medieval."

"No way of knowing without finding the person who took it," Jack said. "Can you get it working as a radio link and a homing beacon?"

"If I can get the antennae reattached," Sam said. She worked on the robot probe for a couple of minutes. "That should do it," she said. "It wouldn't stand up to operational conditions but it will function as a passive relay."

"So we can find it again if we get lost, and send messages home explaining how we're stuck here," Jack said. "Better than nothing, I guess. Okay, we'd better get moving."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

The girl appeared seemingly out of nowhere. She stepped out from behind a tree that was too slender to have concealed her from their sight. Her clothing offered a possible explanation for her apparent invisibility; she was clad in pants and a shirt of dappled brown and green, with a brown leather jerkin over the shirt, and a cloak of white cloth covered with a pattern of brown and green leaf shapes. The overall effect was well suited to camouflage in the snow-dusted forest. She held a short recurve bow, with an arrow nocked to the string, and although it wasn't pointed at any member of SG-1 it was evident that she was ready to bring it to the aim in an instant.

Three P-90s and a staff weapon swung to cover her. Jack glanced back over his shoulder, faced her again, and then cast another glance backwards.

The young woman spoke. Her tone conveyed the impression that she was asking a question but her words were incomprehensible.

"We come in peace?" Jack ventured. He shot another glance over his shoulder. He somehow doubted that the woman was alone and suspected that she had at least one companion who had remained out of sight. Probably behind them, or off to one side, because that's where he would have positioned the rest of SG-1 if he'd come out of hiding to confront strangers.

The woman warrior shook her head and spoke again.

"What's she saying, Daniel?" Jack asked.

"I'm not sure," Daniel admitted. "Germanic roots, like I worked out from the singing, with Celtic influences and… ah. There's a Finno-Ugrian element in there too. Uh, as close as I can get it, she asked us, 'Are you not-winter or are you… something else?' The last bit was some word I couldn't translate, sounded like 'Luskan', probably a name or maybe a nationality."

"Are you not winter? Huh?" Jack's eyes narrowed. He took another look at the woman's clothes. Thick woven pants, fur trim at the top of her boots, and a white fur stole swathing her neck above the leather tunic. Dressed for warmth as well as for camouflage. "Maybe she was saying 'Hey, aren't you cold?' or something like."

"No, the way she said it was more like a sort of 'friend or foe' challenge." Daniel ventured a response in a mash-up of German and Old Welsh.

The woman grinned and nodded. She said a phrase in reply.

"What did you tell her?" Jack asked.

"I have no idea," Daniel said. "Well, I think I told her we were strangers in this land and we don't know what 'not-winter' is, but then again I might have said that we are not the droids she's looking for."

"Why would you tell her that, Daniel Jackson?" Teal'c asked. "She is not an Imperial Stormtrooper."

Jack checked his six again. When he looked back at the young woman she was smiling. It was an honest, friendly, smile that lit up her whole face. Jack had learnt through hard experience that you couldn't go by appearances but he was inclined to believe that this woman was trustworthy. Her eyes, brown as far as Jack could tell at this distance, seemed to sparkle as she smiled. A fringe of red-brown hair could be seen under the hood of her cloak. She called out, louder than her speech to them, and made an obvious point of lowering her bow.

"She's telling someone to come out," Daniel said, even as Jack heard a noise behind him and whirled with his gun leveled. "I think you knowing… he… was there impressed her."

A huge figure emerged into view from behind a group of boulders that offered much better concealment than the tree that had, surprisingly, hidden the girl completely. This native couldn't possibly have taken cover behind anything so slender.

Male, approaching seven feet tall and proportionately broad across the shoulders, clad in armor made from the hide of some unknown animal – and not human. His skin was brown with a distinct grayish tinge, his nose was broad and flat, and his lower jaw jutted out so that the tips of what could only be described as fangs protruded in front of his upper lip. Above his eyes his brows were heavy and slightly ridged. A mop of reddish-brown hair crowned his head and he had sideburns that took up most of his cheeks. He held a weapon that Jack had never seen before.

It was a thick wooden staff, as high as its wielder, with a double-headed axe blade at each end. 'That must be a bitch to control in combat', Jack thought; although this guy certainly looked as if he had the muscle to cope.

Daniel's eyebrows shot up. "Not a unas," he mused. "Something like the corpse we saw on the MALP images but more human." He listened to the woman speaking again. "This, uh, guy is her… sidekick? Right hand man? Squire? He's either called Daelan and he's a Red Tiger or else his name is Red Tiger and he's a Daelan. I'm not sure which way round it goes."

Jack pointed to himself. "Colonel Jack O'Neill," he said. He pointed to the others in turn. "Daniel Jackson. Major Samantha Carter. Teal'c." Daniel added a few explanatory words, presumably clarifying that 'Colonel' and 'Major' were ranks rather than names, and Jack didn't bother to ask exactly what he'd said.

The woman pointed to herself. "Kenadi Nefret," she said.

Daniel bit on his lower lip. "That is fascinating," he said. "The first name sounds Celtic but the last could be Egyptian, or maybe Turkish; Goa'uld, even."

The huge newcomer spoke in a deep, rumbling, voice.

"The girl's a famous hero," Daniel translated. "Savior of… the place that doesn't have winter?" He frowned. "It must be a long way from here." He went back to translating. "Sword… skill… got it! Great swordswoman, always hits with her bow, defender of the… weak."

The girl in question laughed again, shook her head, and spoke.

"She's downplaying it," Daniel related, "saying she was lucky, she just did what anyone else would have done, and she had good… back-up."

Jack studied her again. She held the bow like someone who knew how to use it, the way a combat veteran would hold a rifle, and there were two swords slung at her hips. He assessed her as being very much the deadly warrior her massive sidekick claimed. The modesty was a nice touch; this 'Kenadi Nefret' would probably have made a good officer in an Earth Special Forces unit if she'd been born on a different planet. He'd be prepared to bet heavily that she was neither a Goa'uld nor one of their slave soldiers.

"Okay, it looks like we can communicate," Jack said. "Securing our line of retreat would be a good first step. See if she knows anything about the DHD."

Daniel, with some input from Sam, began questioning the local girl. Jack occupied himself with studying the big guy and, of course, keeping an eye on the surroundings for possible hostiles. The barbarian seemed to be doing the same thing.

"She calls it a 'song gate', or 'song portal', and says it's a left-over from some empire called 'Illefarn' that fell thousands of years ago," Daniel reported. "Of course she attributes its workings to magic. It must be called a 'song gate' for a reason, logically, and that could mean that the symbols on the DHD are a musical notation. If that's the case then I can definitely decode it. Finding out what the locals use for music would help a lot, though, assuming it hasn't changed too much over time."

"The local music that isn't Eighties metal songs." Jack grinned. "Okay, so we need to find what passes for civilization in these parts, I guess."

Daniel turned back to the girl. They exchanged words and gestures. "She says she knows an expert in 'magic' and music," Daniel related, "and she can take us to her. Neat."

"Right, if she can guide us, let's go," Jack said. "You can ask her about the Goa'uld, and if she knows about anyone from this place traveling off-world, while we're…"

Kenadi interrupted him with a sharp hiss, a finger held to her lips, and a hand upraised in a gesture that matched the American signal for 'halt'. Jack was aware that it wasn't a universal gesture, signifying 'come here' in parts of the Philippines and something obscene in Greece, but in this instance the meaning was clear. He fell silent and listened out for whatever the girl had heard; he guessed it was something possibly signifying approaching hostiles.

Yep. He could make out the faint sound of distant feet crunching on the snow. The girl must have sharp senses to have picked it up in the middle of a conversation.

She spoke rapidly, her tone urgent, and her giant companion shifted his axe in his grip and fixed a scowl on the forest in what, judging by the position of the sun, would be a roughly northerly direction.

"She says she hears… some name that doesn't mean anything to me… approaching," Daniel translated. "Too many to fight."

"She hasn't seen our weapons in action," Jack said, "but there's no point in taking chances. She seems friendly, which implies her enemies might not be, so we'll take her advice. If she heads out we'll follow where she leads."

Daniel relayed Jack's decision. Kenadi gave a tight-lipped smile and a nod. She dipped behind the tree, came up holding a large back-pack, and shrugged it onto her shoulders. She spoke once more. Jack didn't need Daniel to interpret what she said as "Follow me." The girl led the way, SG-1 followed, and the massive semi-human axe-man brought up the rear.

Kenadi set a fast pace. Her pack was as large as an infantryman's ALICE pack, and probably not as good at distributing weight, but it didn't seem to be slowing her down. Her balance indicated to Jack that the pack wasn't light; the girl must be stronger than she looked. The big guy was wearing a pack of at least equal size but it was a much smaller proportion of his mass. It wasn't any surprise that he treated it as if it was non-existent.

She wasn't leading them in the direction of the Stargate. It lay slightly south of east and her course was to the south-west. Jack had no objection. Returning to the Stargate only to sit around waiting for Daniel to decipher this non-standard DHD would be pointless, especially if they were going to be besieged there by tattooed barbarians, and following Kenadi seemed a much better alternative.

Or did, until she led them into a trap.

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

The woods became thinner and an open plain lay ahead. Out on that plain a line of warriors barred their path. There were seventy or eighty of them, in a ragged skirmish formation, small groups scattered across a wide front. Jack had expected to encounter tattooed half-naked barbarians like the one that had destroyed the MALP, and indeed a handful of the blocking force fit that description, but the bulk of the soldiers were rather different. They wore armor, chain shirts or steel breastplates, and many of them held bows or crossbows. Those not armed with missile weapons held spears, halberds, or axes.

Kenadi halted, still in the cover of the trees, and spoke quietly to Daniel.

"She says that she and Daelan – it must be his name, not his species – could cut their way through but we might get caught," Daniel reported. "She suggests we stay here and lie low. They'll chase after her and we can wait until they've gone. The bunch behind us aren't that close and we should get clear. If we make our way west until we hit the coast, then go south, we'll find a town. Port something – the rest of the name doesn't translate. Clast? Llast? She claims we can't miss it. She'll try to meet us there but, if we don't find her, we should ask for someone called Sharwyn."

Jack clenched his jaw. "I'm not going to watch two people taking on seventy plus," he said. "I don't know what they're fighting about but she comes over as one of the good guys. She didn't try to shoot us a line to get us to help her side, went out of her way to help strangers, and now she wants us to stay out of danger. That's not the way the bad guys act."

"Indeed," Teal'c put in. "Many times people have lied to us in an attempt to gain our assistance. I do not think this is one of those times."

There was a deep crease between Sam's brows. "Sir – do we really want to get into a firefight with a bunch of guys with bows and arrows?" she asked. "It's pretty much overkill, especially when we don't know who the sides are. Just because Kenadi seems like a good guy doesn't mean the others are the bad guys. It could be one of those wars over trade and resources, or religion, where both sides are convinced they're in the right."

"Arrows and crossbow bolts have killed a lot of people in their time," Jack pointed out. "I don't plan on giving them the chance to clock up a few more, namely us, by playing too nice. Maybe a demonstration of what we can do will make them back off."

"O'Neill is right," Teal'c gave his opinion. "Those two are warriors. To let them fight alone against such numbers would disgrace us."

"I've made my decision," Jack said. "Daniel, tell her."

They advanced out of the tree line together. Crossbows swung up to point at them. "A demonstration is a hell of a lot easier when you can tell the other side what you're doing," Jack muttered. He raised his voice. "Daniel, tell them to lower their weapons and back off or they'll get for real what I'm going to do to the ground in front of them."

Daniel shouted out, as instructed, but he didn't carry the tone of command Jack would have imbued in the warning had he been able to deliver it himself. It was better than nothing, however, and as soon as Daniel fell silent Jack let loose a burst from his P-90. Dirt and snow flew up where the bullets hit the ground.

The opposing soldiers fell back with cries of alarm. A few bolts and arrows were loosed but went nowhere near SG-1 and their new friends. Jack's eyebrows shot up in astonishment as, over the next few seconds, several figures materialized out of nowhere in the midst of the panicked soldiery. Four of them were in full plate armor, with shields emblazoned with a snowflake symbol on their arms, and cloaks of white trimmed with blue; women, Jack thought, although it was hard to be sure at a couple of hundred yards. Another two were men in long black robes and cloaks. One wore a pointed conical hat, like a stereotypical fantasy wizard, and carried a staff to complete the resemblance.

"Where did they come from?" Sam wondered aloud. "Surely they can't have invisibility at this tech level?"

"The ruling elite," Daniel speculated.

Kenadi showed no surprise at the appearances. She made a comment to her huge companion. Daniel didn't get a chance to translate before she spoke again. This time she addressed him directly, although her eyes kept flicking to Jack; she was obviously well aware that he was the one in charge of the strangers.

"She says be ready to fight," Daniel relayed. "I don't quite get the rest of it. Something about them coming out of invisibility meaning they've already started their attack. And the invisibility didn't faze her one little bit."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "She popped up from behind a tree that wouldn't have concealed a cat. Does she have an invisibility screen herself?"

Kenadi hushed Daniel when he tried to ask. Her head tilted, listening, and her eyes scanned the ground around the group. Suddenly she reached her right hand across her body to the sword at her left hip, pulled it from the scabbard, and delivered a thrust to apparently empty air. Half of the sword-blade vanished, blood began to trickle along the runnel in the blade and drip onto the snow, and then a body became visible on the end of her sword. A man in black leather, hooded and cloaked, a dagger poised in his upraised hand. His fingers opened and the dagger dropped to the ground.

Kenadi disengaged and let the body fall free. She slung her bow over her shoulder and drew her other, much shorter, sword with her left hand. She adopted the stance of someone dueling with rapier and main-gauche and swung her head around. Her eyes were trained on the ground.

Jack looked at the body, jerking spasmodically in its death throes, and saw the trail of footprints in the snow leading up to it. He suddenly realized how Kenadi had spotted the invisible man's approach and he turned his own attention to the snowy ground. At first he saw nothing and then depressions in the snow began to appear, with no visible cause; footprints. Jack brought up his P-90 and fired a short burst.

A spray of blood spurted from out of nothing. Red droplets spattered on the snow. A scream of agony rang out, high-pitched and probably female, and something fell heavily. The body remained invisible but a mace appeared and rolled across the snowy ground.

Exclamations of surprise sounded from Daniel and Sam. "Invisible attackers!" Jack yelled. "Watch the snow!"

Two seconds later Sam's P-90 spat fire. She achieved similar results to Jack and another body hit the ground in a welter of blood. Teal'c's staff weapon blasted out and the snow was kicked up as the target was thrown backward.

Daniel was slower to react. He avoided a fatal stab wound only by sheer accident; he stopped in his tracks and half-turned just as a dagger-wielding attacker delivered a thrust. Suddenly he was grappling with a black-clad assailant, desperately trying to keep a knife from his throat, but then he was saved by the huge warrior Daelan. The big man seized the knife-man by the scruff of the neck, threw him bodily to the ground, and swung his double-axe. The blade bit deep and no second blow was required.

Jack saw Kenadi killing another invisible man, her movements graceful but lethally efficient, and checked his surroundings again. He saw no more footprints but instead something even more baffling. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a pack of giant wolves was charging toward them.

There were five of the big animals, perhaps twice the size of timber wolves, snarling and slavering as they came. For a second Jack couldn't believe that they were real, suspecting that they were hologram projections as they had materialized from nothing, but then he saw snow flying up behind their racing paws. He gave them a burst from the P-90, joined a second later by Sam, and the beasts went down in howling ruin.

The line of soldiers was advancing now. Arrows whistled through the air. Most fell short but some struck the ground close to SG-1. Reluctantly Jack decided that they were committed to battle now and further warning shots would be useless. He emptied the rest of his magazine at the men, hitting several, and then ejected the empty mag and slapped a new one home.

Sam followed his example. Teal'c fired a staff blast at one of the men in fantasy wizard garb and blew him away. Daniel had a full magazine, not having fired yet, and his additional firepower made up for the fact that he couldn't match Jack or Sam for marksmanship. In all about twenty-five of the opposing force went down, including both of the 'wizards' and three of the armored women, and the survivors turned and fled en masse.

Jack sucked in and released a deep breath. "So far so good," he said. "I guess we can move on now." He expected their 'native guides' to hasten onward but instead they went to the bodies of the invisible attackers and began a hasty but thorough search. He saw Kenadi pulling rings from fingers and necklaces from around necks. His opinion of her went down. "Do we have time for that?" he asked.

Daniel passed on his comment. The girl looked up briefly, nodded, and spoke in reply.

"As near as I can interpret," Daniel passed on, "she says they're operating in hostile territory and rely on the enemy dead for everything. The 'magic' they take from the bodies has kept them alive many times." He tilted his head to one side. "Maybe the invisibility gadgets are in jewelry."

"That makes sense, I guess," Jack said. "I didn't figure her for a looter. Okay, I can live with that. As long as she doesn't spend too much time at it, if there's another horde coming up behind us, but she knows about them."

Kenadi removed her pack from her back, opened it, and stuffed her trophies in. She fastened it quickly and swung it back into position. She spoke again, jerking a finger in the direction in which they had been headed, and Jack didn't need Daniel's translation to know that she was saying "Okay, we're done here, let's move out."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

They trekked on for another three hours. Daniel spent some time as they walked questioning the girl, and to a lesser extent her companion, about what she might know of the Goa'uld, the technology behind the 'magic', and the reasons behind the war she seemed to be fighting. She gave terse answers; her attention was obviously concentrated on her surroundings. Eventually she apparently tired of his questions, rummaged in her pack, produced a book and handed it to him. Daniel smiled happily and occupied himself with trying to decipher its script whilst on the move; after the second time that he walked into a tree Jack took the book from him, stowed it away, and told him he could have it back when they were somewhere they could sit down in peace.

Twice during that time they came under attack. The first attack was by a group of humanoids who were obviously of the same race as the corpse that had been the first life-form spotted by the MALP. Protruding-browed, heavy-jawed, and hairy; reminiscent of ancestral hominids, _homo erectus_ perhaps, but with weapons and armor that wouldn't have been out of place in Dark Ages Europe. They made good use of cover as they attacked, giving the members of SG-1 only a couple of clear shots, but at close quarters they were outclassed by Kenadi and Daelan.

Teal'c clubbed one with the butt of his staff weapon, Jack shot another in the face at point-blank range, and the other attackers fell before Kenadi's rapier and short-sword and Daelan's double-axe. Jack noticed, during the fight, that the rapier had some properties not normally found in a sword. Even a slight wound from its blade seemed to have a paralyzing effect on a foe. If Kenadi could make contact with an enemy's flesh the humanoid froze in place, unable to attack or defend, for a few moments. Almost always Kenadi or Daelan finished off the helpless opponents before they could recover.

On the other occasion the attackers were shambling gray-skinned beings, human in shape and feature, but seemingly mindless and capable only of relentless attack. Kenadi's rapier had no such paralyzing effects upon these creatures and they ignored thrusts with the slim blade even through the chest. She used her shorter, broader, left-hand sword to hack away at them and Daelan carved them apart with his mighty axe-blades. That was much more effective.

They reminded Jack of the zombies from horror movies, George Romero's 'Living Dead' series in particular, and he put into practice the standard technique for killing zombies as depicted in those classics; bullets straight through the brain. It worked in real life just as well as it did on screen.

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

After a while Kenadi called a halt for a meal break. She collected fallen twigs and small branches and built a fire. Instead of using a tinder-box to light it, as Jack expected, she produced a small rod of some ivory-like material, pointed it at the wood, and sent out a jet of flame. The deadwood caught light immediately and she melted snow over the resultant fire.

Daelan took over cooking duties and Kenadi occupied herself with examining the items she had looted from the enemy dead. She unrolled parchments taken from the dead 'wizards', grinned widely, and then read aloud from one of the scrolls. Jack stared at the parchment and his brow furrowed. He was sure that there had been words written on it when she started to read but, by the time she had finished, the scroll was blank.

Kenadi fixed her gaze on Jack. "Now," she said, apparently in English, "we can talk."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

"The gods you name sound like those of Mulhorand," Kenadi said. "That is thousands of miles away." She grinned. "I impersonated a Mulhorandi ambassador to penetrate the Host Tower of the Arcane but I only succeeded because the guards knew even less about that far land than did I. I have read of their gods but that is all. The gods we have here in the North are different. I follow the goddess Mielikki, the Forest Queen, patron of rangers and druids."

"Sounds a pleasant sort of goddess," Jack remarked.

"She is," Kenadi said, giving him a flashing smile.

"Have you ever heard of the Goa'uld?" Daniel asked. He gave a brief description of their physiology and habits.

"I've never heard that name," Kenadi said, "but I know about creatures that burrow into humans and take over their minds. We call them 'Intellect Devourers'. I killed one in the Peninsula Prison. It had taken over the Head Warder, and released all the prisoners, and was organizing them into an army."

"You killed it? With your sword?" Jack raised his eyebrows.

"It wasn't easy," Kenadi said, "but, yes, I did. I sent away all its dominated slaves before I attacked the Warder. When I had slain him the creature emerged and tried to possess me or Daelan, as there were no other hosts present, and I impaled it on my blade." She shuddered. "It was truly a vile, disgusting, thing."

"They're all of that," Jack agreed. "Know of any more around here?"

Kenadi shook her head. "They are rare. The one I slew had been brought to Neverwinter from Waterdeep to be an ingredient in the cure for the Wailing Death plague. It escaped when the Academy was attacked."

Jack didn't ask her to elaborate. Getting anything more than a brief overview of the local situation would take far too long. "Okay," he said. "Tell me who the guys are who tried to stop us back there."

"Wizards from the Host Tower of the Arcane," Kenadi told him, "priestesses of Auril the Frost Maiden, and followers of Kurth the High Captain who I slew in Luskan. They are allied with the Elk Tribe of the Uthgardt, who are also worshippers of Auril, and they seek vengeance upon me for the death of Kurth, various wizards, and several of the priestesses. I am sorry that I have involved you in my fight, which is none of your concern, but had you traveled on your own you would still have been at risk. Kurth was a pirate and his men would doubtless seek to rob you. Those weapons of yours would be a valuable prize."

"Hey, we don't mind helping you out," Jack said. "Our first priority has to be working out how to get home but we'll do what we can."

"I want to know how you did that translation thing so that we can understand what you're saying," Sam said. "I've never encountered anything like it."

"I used a spell scroll," Kenadi said. "I am no wizard but I can use magic devices that others have created."

"Voice-activated technology on a sheet of paper," Sam muttered to herself. "It doesn't make sense." She raised her voice to normal conversational level again. "Can you explain how it works?"

Kenadi shook her head. "It uses the power of the Weave, that is all I know, and only a real wizard could explain how. I have friends who may be able to tell you more. They may still be in Port Llast, to where I am taking you, or else they will have moved on to Beorunna's Well for the campaign against the Elk Tribe Uthgardt. Of course the Host Tower wizards would give you a demonstration of magic, should we encounter them again, but only of its destructive and painful effects."

"Yeah," Daniel said, "with a vocal accompaniment of 'cower before me, puny mortals'."

She rose to her feet. "We had better move on. If we go now we should be in Neverwinter territory before sunset. We can talk at more leisure then."

Daniel pouted. "Hey, I wanted to take a look at that book."

Jack shook his head. "Later, Danny boy. She has a point. We have more important things to do first."

Daniel's pout grew more pronounced. "Nothing's more important than books."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

The sun was dipping but was well short of the horizon when Kenadi brought them to a halt. They were walking along a dirt road, its surface rutted by wheel tracks, and some of the fields near to the roadway were cultivated and held crops or livestock. The farmhouses showed signs of being built with defense in mind, however, and this was hardly civilization.

Two figures were sitting by the side of the road. They rose to their feet as Kenadi halted and stood as if waiting for the party to approach.

Kenadi led them forward again. The waiting figures made no offensive moves. "They seem not hostile," Kenadi said to Jack and his companions, "but I believe I know who they are and they may well bear us ill intent. Do not use your weapons without provocation but be wary."

Jack studied the two as they came into clear view. One of them was a huge man, almost a match for Daelan in size, but with features that were clearly those of a normal human. His garb was similar to that of the barbarian who had smashed the MALP, except that he wore a short open-fronted chain mail shirt over his tattooed torso; Jack guessed that the armor had been originally made for someone much smaller. His head was shaven save for a feather-decorated top-knot. A necklace of animal teeth hung around his neck and his arms bore bracelets of copper. He had a large oval shield, with a spiked central boss, strapped to one arm and he held a battle-axe in the other hand.

The other waiting figure wasn't so obviously human. It was a woman, slim of build and as tall as Sam Carter, with skin that was the blackest that Jack had ever seen. Not the brown-black of the African or Melanesian races of Earth but a pure jet black. Her hair was absolutely white, matching the snow, and her ears were… unusual, to say the least. Long and pointed, as if she were a Vulcan, or an elf from that Peter Jackson 'Lord of the Rings' movie. She was clad in figure-hugging matt black leather, reinforced with dark metal studs, and a cloak that closely resembled Kenadi's camouflage cloak. The hilt of a sword stuck up from a scabbard across her back and a hand-axe was thrust through a belt-loop at her left hip.

"You would be Cierre of Luruar, if I am not mistaken," Kenadi greeted her.

"And you, I presume, are Kenadi, dubbed the Benefactor, Hero of Neverwinter," the black-skinned woman responded. "You have slain many priestesses of my goddess."

"You seek vengeance, no doubt," Kenadi said. Her eyebrows twitched upward. "I would not have thought to meet you thus, sitting plain by the road, less than a league from a fort of Neverwinter."

"You are a ranger perhaps as skilled as am I, if rumor speaks true," Cierre replied. "To sneak up on you would be no easy task. It was easier, as well as more honorable, to wait for you and challenge you to a duel."

"And who is your companion?" Kenadi asked. "Does he seek to challenge Daelan in like fashion?"

"I do," the barbarian warrior said. "I am Jaevgrim of the Elk Tribe. You and your sniveling traitorous toady slew Yeanasha of the Elks. For that I shall take your heads."

"Slew Yeanasha? We did no such thing," Kenadi protested. "We saw her in the waiting chambers of the Host Tower, and spoke to her, but that is all. She was alive and well when we departed."

"Lies!" Jaevgrim snarled. "You treacherous Neverwinter murderers, spreaders of plague…"

"_Spreaders_ of plague?" Kenadi interrupted. Her lips curled back from her teeth in a snarl. "Two thousand of us _died_ of the Wailing Death!"

"I shall smash your insults back into your mouth, Elk warrior," Daelan growled.

"Weakling of the cowardly Red Tigers, I will urinate on your corpse," Jaevgrim answered.

"Hush, primitive male," the dark-skinned girl put in. "Your boasts are tiresome."

Kenadi glared at Jaevgrim for a moment longer but then pursed her lips and turned to the other girl. "You are far from your home in Luruar, Cierre, and I hardly think news of my deeds could have carried there so quickly. Certainly there has been no time for you to travel here on foot. Were you summoned here to confront me?"

"I was," the black-skinned woman admitted, "but I will not tell you by whom." She raised her right hand and took hold of her sword.

"I have no wish to fight you," Kenadi said, "but I suppose that it cannot be avoided. What of these companions of mine? I warn you that they have weapons that would slay you in an instant."

Cierre cast an incurious glance over the members of SG-1. "Were they with you in Luskan?"

"No," said Kenadi. "I came upon them in the forest after I left the city. I was guiding them to Port Llast."

"Then I have no interest in them," said Cierre. "If I am not mistaken this road leads to Port Llast and they no longer need you as a guide. When you are dead they can continue on. I shall not impede their passage."

"Hey, if you think we're just going to stand here and watch you kill our friend, you're making a big mistake," Jack put in. "Back off, girl, or I'll put a bullet through your kneecap." He gestured with his P-90, sweeping the barrel across in an arc encompassing the dark girl and the barbarian, pointed low. "You too, big guy."

"There is no need for you to be involved, Colonel Jack," Kenadi said, shaking her head. "Cierre has done me the courtesy of an open approach. She is known as a skilled tracker and she would doubtless find me again. If I do not face her now I will have to in the future. We might as well get this over with." She took off her backpack, set it down on the ground, and drew her swords. "If I should fall," she said to Jack, "take my pack. There is gold therein that will cover your needs, or to pay for a wizard to assist you, and books that might be of interest to Daniel. Seek out Sharwyn, as I have told you, and she will give you aid."

Jack gritted his teeth. "I think you're doing a dumb thing," he said, "but, okay, we'll go along with it if that's what you want."

Cierre drew her sword, revealing a blade that glowed with an eerie green light, and hefted her hand-axe in her left hand. "You have more honor and less arrogance than I was led to believe," she said to Kenadi. "This will be a victory of which bards shall sing for years to come."

"Probably," agreed Kenadi, "but it remains to be seen which of us shall be the victor."

"Enough talk," the giant human barbarian growled. "It is time to fight! I shall return to the Elk Tribe in triumph with the head of the Red Tiger mongrel hanging at my belt." He clashed his axe against his shield. "Fear my fury!"

"Rage of the Red Tiger unleashed!" Daelan responded. The two huge men hurled themselves at each other in a whirlwind of swinging blades.

The two girls faced off against each other more cautiously. For a moment they merely stood looking at each other and then Kenadi lunged, Cierre parried, and from then on it was a blur of dancing motion. The swords clashed together in a blinding sequence of thrusts, parries, ripostes, and slashes.

"They're amazing," Daniel commented. "They have to be enhanced some way. No normal human could move that fast."

"Kenadi definitely isn't a Goa'uld host," Sam said, "but I don't know about the other… girl. Her eyes look strange. They might even be glowing a touch."

"I do not believe that she is Goa'uld," Teal'c said. He frowned. "She is indeed skilful. More so, I fear, than our companion Kenadi Nefret."

"You could have a point," Daniel said, as Cierre parried a thrust by Kenadi and retaliated with a slashing axe blow that Kenadi avoided only by fractions of an inch. Daniel bit his lip and his brows descended. "She's at least as fast and strong and I think she's totally ambidextrous. Kenadi isn't as good with her left."

Jack studied the other two fighters. "I think our big guy is stronger than their big guy," he said. Daelan was driving his opponent back with a barrage of powerful blows.

"Well, that's good," said Daniel, "but suppose Kenadi loses. Are we just going to let it happen?"

"If this is a matter of honor, our intervention would offend her greatly," Teal'c said.

"Yeah, but she won't be dead," said Daniel. "I'd count that as a win."

Jack hefted his P-90 and clenched his jaw as he debated with himself. A second later the issue became moot.

Kenadi recovered from a lunge and delivered a backhand cut that just caught the tip of Cierre's shoulder. The tip of her blade sliced through the leather armor and drew blood. Cierre froze in place, her weapons motionless, and Kenadi grinned in triumph. She reversed her sword and raised it to strike with the pommel to Cierre's head.

Suddenly Cierre came to life. A smile flickered on her lips as she thrust with her sword and took Kenadi under the ribs. It pierced through the leather jack and drove in deep. Kenadi cried out. Her rapier fell from her hand. Cierre thrust still deeper, stepping in as she did so and coming close enough that their chests touched, and the glowing tip of her blade burst through the back of Kenadi's armor. Blood gushed from the wound.

Jack raised his P-90 and took aim through the optical sight, looking for a clear shot, but Kenadi was in the line of fire. To his side Sam was aiming as well but, like Jack, she didn't pull the trigger.

Daelan roared in rage and anguish. Cierre's eyes flicked in his direction as she began to withdraw her blade and step back. In that instant Kenadi brought up the short-sword in her left hand and stabbed Cierre in the stomach. Her sword went in up to the cross-guard and Cierre screamed in her turn.

The two women staggered apart. A great gout of blood burst from Kenadi as the sword ripped through her abdomen. She swayed on her feet for a moment and then toppled like a felled tree. Cierre dropped her weapons and fell to her knees clutching at her stomach. Kenadi's sword was still embedded in the wound.

Daniel and Sam raced to Kenadi's aid. Jack lowered his P-90 and went to Cierre. Now that she was wounded, and badly, there was no longer any question of shooting her. Teal'c's eyes were fixed on the battle between the two giant barbarians.

Daelan, in a berserk frenzy of rage and anguish, was battering his opponent with a flurry of blows almost too quick to see and carrying shattering power. The Elk Tribe warrior's shield was being smashed back against his face and body by the force of the impacts and he had no chance at all to strike back. Daelan gripped his double-axe in the fashion of a quarter-staff and rammed the centre section into the other man. Jaevgrim rocked back, stumbled, and fell over. He landed on his backside, desperately trying to protect himself with axe and shield, as Daelan roared, changed his grip on his weapon, and rained down powerful blows with the blades.

Sam tried to staunch the flow of blood from Kenadi's dreadful wound. It was hopeless. The damage was massive. Blood began to spill from Kenadi's mouth as she tried to speak.

"Hea... heal… po…" she croaked incoherently. Her hands moved feebly at waist level.

"Don't try to talk," Sam urged. "Lie still." Her sleeves were red to the elbows as she strove to do something, anything, to stop the blood loss.

Cierre's wound was not quite as horrific as Kenadi's but it was still probably mortal. She moaned and clutched at the hilt of the sword in her gut. "She… went to… knock… me out," Cierre gasped out. "Not to… kill me."

"Yeah, well, she's one of the good guys," Jack said. "I'm going to see what I can do for your wound, okay?"

Kenadi suddenly sat half upright. "Save Neverwinter," she said clearly. "Kill Maugrim. Save…" Her body jerked convulsively. Blood bubbled from her mouth and then stopped. Her head lolled sideways and her body flopped back down. Sam felt for a pulse and found nothing.

Daelan split his opponent's shield in two and raised his double-axe for a finishing blow. It never landed.

Soft thuds, displaced air expelled from spaces suddenly being occupied by a solid body, came from all around. Human figures appeared in those spaces. Some robed, some armored, all immediately taking action.

One fired some kind of energy bolt at Daelan, causing him to arch his back as his muscles went into spasm, and stopping him from bringing down his axe. He whirled to face his new attacker and Jaevgrim, spared for the moment, rolled away and began to scramble to his feet.

Sam and Daniel were caught totally off-guard. Daniel's hands were cradling Kenadi's head. Sam had slung her P-90 over her shoulder as she tried to tend to the girl's fatal wound. Before either of them could bring a gun to bear one of the armored attackers, a woman in a white and blue cloak, gestured with her hands and spoke a phrase that seemed to be an invocation to a god. Both Daniel and Sam froze in place, motionless, Sam's P-90 half-way to the aim and her finger just entering the trigger guard.

Teal'c had his staff weapon in his hands. As soon as the new arrivals revealed themselves as hostile he reacted. A staff blast hurled the closest of the robed men from his feet and sent him crashing to the ground, smoke curling up from a charred patch on his robes, to lie limp and still.

Jack rose from beside Cierre, aiming and firing even as he came to his feet, spraying the nearest robed figure with a short burst. The bullets bounced off some sort of force shield. The man sneered and raised a stick of bone or ivory – Jack refused to think of it as a wand – and pointed it at Jack. There was nothing Jack could do other than fire again, even though he expected it to be futile, and so he let loose another burst. The first few bullets bounced off again but then the shield failed and four rounds tore into the wand-wielder's body. He spun around and fell flat on his face in the bloody snow.

Teal'c blasted one of the armored women. Coruscations of electrical sparks illuminated her armor as she fell. Teal'c shifted targets to aim at an indistinct robed figure, shimmering and translucent, but a wave of energy emanated from the robed man and struck Teal'c before he could fire. Teal'c staggered and his fingers lost their grip on the staff. Frost crystals formed on his eyebrows and his strip of beard. He shook himself and stooped for the fallen staff.

Jack sprayed the ghostly figure with bullets. They passed through harmlessly. An armored woman was coming at him from the side and so Jack turned and gave her a burst through the chest. The 5.7 mm armor-piercing rounds ripped through the plate armor and dropped her in her tracks.

Meanwhile another of the women had frozen Daelan in the same rigid paralysis as had afflicted Daniel and Sam. The woman turned to face Teal'c, gestured, and spoke words that were incomprehensible despite the translation effect. The ground burst open beside him and a human skeleton emerged from the hole. A steel circlet crowned its head and in its bony hands it held a long two-handed sword. Even as Teal'c snatched up his staff weapon the skeleton swung its sword and knocked the staff from his grasp.

"Don't kill him!" the shimmering figure commanded, as the skeleton lashed out with its sword again and Teal'c dodged.

"As you wish, Lord Maugrim," the woman acknowledged. The skeleton shifted its grip on the sword and struck with the flat of the blade.

Teal'c went in under the blow, seized the skeletal arms, and grappled for control of the sword. He swept his leg around, tripped the skeleton, and threw it over his shoulder. He kicked out, broke one of the arm bones, and pulled the sword free. A downward strike shattered the helmeted skull and the animated skeleton fell apart.

Jack couldn't get a clear shot at the woman who had controlled the skeleton. Sam and Daniel were standing, paralyzed, in his line of fire. He moved to get a clear shot but something hit him across the back of the head and he fell to his knees, head spinning, his gun muzzle drooping to point at the ground. He managed to turn his head and saw a man, clad in a fancy jacket and high boots that made him look like some kind of goddamn pirate, who hadn't been there a second ago. The pirate held a club, maybe even a belaying pin, in his right hand. Jack tried to raise his P-90 but the stunning blow had slowed his reactions and he was too late. The club came down again on Jack's head and he saw stars.

Teal'c found himself fighting something insubstantial, a hazy black figure like the shadow of a man, preventing him from recovering the staff weapon. It touched him with intangible hands and he felt a chill penetrating to his bones. Suddenly the sword in his hands felt heavier. He brought it round in a swing and the blade passed through the shadowy creature. There was a slight tug of resistance, almost as if he was swishing it through water, and the dark shape recoiled. It came forward again and laid a hand upon Teal'c's arm. The sword's weight seemed to increase yet more.

Teal'c summoned all his strength and swung the sword again. He aimed at where the neck should have been on a human. Again there was momentary resistance to his blow. This time the shape didn't just recoil, it dissipated into nothingness. Teal'c hurled the sword point-first at the woman who had sent the skeleton, and presumably also the shadow creature, to attack him. It fell short.

The woman fixed her gaze on Teal'c. Her helmet was open at the front and revealed a pretty face with full lips and wide blue eyes. "I'm impressed," she said. "You have other talents besides your strange weapons."

"You waste time, Lady Cold Circle," the translucent man complained. "Take him!"

Teal'c dived for his staff weapon. Simultaneously Lady Cold Circle pointed her fingers at him and spoke in a chanting tone. Teal'c hit the ground beside the staff, his limbs refusing to obey his mind, and lay motionless in the snow.

Jack was seized by strong hands and jerked to his feet. The piratical man took him in an arm-lock and held him as a robed man and an armored woman approached. The blows on the head had dazed Jack too much for him to be able to free himself before his gun was taken and he was bound tightly with ropes. The pirate took the P-90 and examined it for a short time before it was snatched from him by the man in dark robes.

Daniel, Sam, Teal'c and Daelan were tied up as well. Daniel's paralysis wore off while the knots were being fastened but his captors easily restrained him. The big Elk Tribe barbarian joined those binding Daelan and took the opportunity to deliver a solid punch to the face of the man who had defeated him.

"You cowardly bastard," Jack snarled.

"I will smash you too, little man," the barbarian growled in answer.

"He speaks truth," Lady Cold Circle said. "There is no honor in such an act, Jaevgrim. Desist."

Jaevgrim scowled but obeyed, delivering no further blows, and restricting himself only to ensuring that Daelan's bonds were tight.

The shimmering translucence that enveloped the attackers' presumed commander either expired, if it was time-limited, or was switched off. The man came into plain view and Jack and Daniel stared at him.

He wore black robes and a black skull-cap with a peak that went down over the centre of his forehead. He had an aquiline nose, high arched black eyebrows, and a thin mustache and goatee beard that proclaimed him as an Evil Mastermind as plainly as if he had worn a T-shirt emblazoned with 'I'm the Dark Lord, fear me'. He folded his arms and stared back at the prisoners.

"Most satisfactory," he said. "I thought the so-called Hero of Neverwinter would fall into this trap and I was correct." He turned and strode over to Cierre, who lay moaning on the ground with the sword still embedded in her stomach, and looked down at her. "You made the perfect bait. Well done for actually killing her, by the way. The Neverwinter fools built up her legend so much that now they will be plunged into despair. Their morale will be shattered."

"You… lied to me, Maugrim," Cierre gasped out. She struggled up slightly and supported herself on an elbow. She panted for breath, clouds of condensation forming in front of her mouth in the cold air, and managed to speak again. "Lady… Cold Circle," she began.

Maugrim didn't let her continue. He stooped down, grabbed the hilt of the sword, and pulled it out of Cierre's stomach. He ripped sideways as he tugged and blood spurted forth. Cierre screamed, a high piercing shriek of agony, and collapsed.

Maugrim tossed the sword down close to Kenadi's corpse. "A perfect picture," he said. "These two killed each other, almost exactly what really happened, and then the big oaf drove off the other attackers and pursued them. If the Neverwinter people know about these strangers, and I suspect they don't, they'll assume they went with the half-orc. Or that they were false and helped with the attack, possibly, but I don't really care."

"You should have let me heal Cierre," Lady Cold Circle said.

"She's more useful dead," Maugrim said. "Ah, that reminds me, I'd better make sure that the bothersome heroine stays dead." He beckoned to the Elk warrior. "Make yourself useful, Jaevgrim, and cut off her head. Use Cierre's axe rather than your own."

"With pleasure, Lord Maugrim," said the giant. He swaggered over to join Maugrim, took up the hand-axe, and hacked down at Kenadi's neck. "This shall make a fine trophy," he said, and picked up the severed head by the hair.

"Put it down," Maugrim commanded. "Taking it away would spoil the impression I seek to leave."

Jaevgrim scowled but obeyed. He cast the head, and the bloody hand-axe, down beside the girl's corpse. Jack averted his eyes from the grisly scene and looked at his captive colleagues. Daniel was grim-faced and tight-lipped. Sam, who had recovered from her paralysis by now, had tears trickling down her cheeks.

"Excellent," Maugrim said. "That should stop anyone Raising her."

"They can raise the dead?" Daniel muttered. "Sarcophagus technology?"

"This staging will not fool Aarin Gend," Lady Cold Circle said. "There are too many inconsistencies."

"It only has to convince the common herd," Maugrim replied. "If Gend comes to investigate in person that in itself will gain us valuable time. Now, we must be off. This road is little traveled these days but the sound of the strangers' weapons will have carried far." A sardonic grin appeared on his face and he rubbed his hands together. "Those weapons will enable my army to crush Neverwinter for all time." His grin grew wider. "Especially if these strangers can reveal to me the mysteries of the portal."


	2. In Durance Vile

**A/N**: contains scenes of severe torture. Be warned.

**Debt Of Blood**

**Part Two: In Durance Vile**

She crawled.

Her legs were useless, failing to obey the commands of her mind, and so she dragged herself along with her hands. A Cure Light Wounds spell had slowed the bleeding only slightly, staving off her death for perhaps a couple of minutes at most, and she left a red trail in the snow as her life-blood seeped from the dreadful wound.

The healing potion bottle in her belt-pouch had been shattered by the sword-hilt as the blade drove into her gut. The shards worked their way through the leather as she crawled, lacerating her skin, causing pain that was swamped by the searing agony she already felt. She gritted her teeth and forced herself to continue, ignoring the pain, ignoring everything except her objective.

Her fingers touched the leggings of the headless corpse. A tear trickled down her cheek, fell onto the snow, and froze. She forced herself another few inches forward, clutched at the cloth, and tugged. Inch by inch she worked herself up the body until at last she reached the leather of the belt.

Her vision was dimming. Each successive breath was more effort than the last. Her fingers were unresponsive and beginning to stiffen. She fumbled her way to the pouch, managed to get her fingers inside, and touched the glass vial within. Slowly, carefully, Cierre took hold and pulled it out.

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

Jack sat with his back against the rough stone wall. He mimed throwing a ball against the far wall and caught the imaginary rebound. "So," he wondered, "how many times is this?"

"You mean, how many times have we been locked up by some crazed megalomaniac with plans for conquering Earth, dominating his own planet, or both?" Daniel, in the cell across the hall, ran a finger over his lips. "I lost count after the first few. This time is a little unusual. It's not often that we all get captured. Most times at least one of us stays free to rescue the others later."

"Yeah, I'll be sure to write this one up in my diary," Jack said. He grabbed at the imaginary ball, appeared to miss, and made a second grab. Again he seemed to miss, frowned, and watched the non-existent ball roll away across the dungeon floor.

"We must rely upon our own resources," Teal'c said. He was in the cell next to Jack, with a solid stone wall between them, and visible to Daniel only if both of them went to the bars at the front of their cells. The giant humanoid Daelan was in the cell opposite him.

"Which are just about nil," Jack said. He had a wire saw concealed within one of his boot-laces but he wasn't going to mention it for the moment, until he'd found out more about their environment, in case their captors were listening in. "We're not going to MacGyver our way out of here with nothing but straw mattresses and our clothes. They even took my watch."

"MacGyver? What is that?" Teal'c asked.

"An old TV show," Jack said, "with this guy who could improvise gadgets out of damn near anything. The actor who played him looked a lot like me. Not as dashingly handsome, of course, but pretty cool for a civilian."

"I'm baffled by the weird mix of technology they have here," Sam remarked, from her cell on the far side of Teal'c's. The cell facing her was empty except for a skeleton hanging from manacles fastened to the wall. "Invisibility, teleportation, energy blasts, paralysis fields, and yet they fight with swords and bows and arrows." She paused and a grimace, unseen by anyone but Teal'c, crossed her face. "The guys who captured us seemed to be worried by poor Kenadi, maybe even scared of her, and yet all she had was a couple of swords."

"The heart of the warrior is more important than the weapons, Major Carter," Teal'c said. "Master Bra'tac with a wooden bashaak is more to be feared than a common soldier in full armor with a staff weapon and zat'nik'tel."

"Yeah, you're right there, Teal'c." Jack threw the imaginary baseball again. "Although her swords were gimmicked somehow anyway, and I still think she had something in the way of invisibility technology, and there was the translation thing…"

"Speaking of which," Sam pointed out, "I can't understand what Daelan's saying."

"What?" Daniel came to the front of his cell. "Hey, yeah. We're hearing him in his own language again. 'I will tear out Maugrim's gizzard and strangle him with it.' Well, I can sympathize with the sentiment."

"So the translator was something Kenadi had, in her back-pack maybe?" Sam shook her head, although none of the others could see her gesture, and frowned. "No, that can't be. We could understand Daelan last night, and the guards who threw us in here, and every word of Maugrim gloating. A time-limited effect, I guess, or something that lasted for as long as we were awake."

"Well, that's going to make it a bit difficult for us to order breakfast," Jack said. "Always assuming we get more than a bowl of gruel, whatever the hell gruel is, of course."

"There's a skeleton in the cell opposite me," Sam informed the others. "Somehow I don't think they do five-star breakfasts around here."

"Didn't think so," said Jack. "On the bright side, it's going to be just as difficult for Maugrim to interrogate us if we can't understand each other. It'll make it easier to stretch things out until we can figure out how to get out of here or another team turns up to rescue us. That's assuming that Hammond risks sending another team when the DHD's non-standard and they might not be able to figure out how to get home."

"General Hammond does not leave his men behind," Teal'c stated. "He is a true warrior. He will send help and trust to Daniel Jackson to bring us all back."

"He'll send through another MALP first, to take close-ups of the control panel and get it decoded, before he risks sending another team," Sam said. "It's going to take time. Then they have to find us. That teleport jump could have taken us anywhere."

"I doubt if we're all that far away from where we started," Jack said. "Kenadi and Daelan were wandering around on foot and they must have been in Maugrim's territory to have got him pissed at them. My guess is less than fifty miles. Anyone want to place bets?"

"I also think that we are relatively close to the Chaapa'ai," Teal'c opined.

Daniel went off on another tack. "Maugrim," he mused. "That name is kind of familiar."

"Some old god, maybe?" Jack raised an eyebrow. "It doesn't sound like any of the ones that turned out to be Goa'uld. More like the Viking bunch, I'd say, but if he's an Asgard then I'm the King of Swaziland."

"There's a talking wolf called Maugrim in 'The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe'," Sam put in. "I used to love that book."

"Huh? 'The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe'?" Jack raised his eyes and stared at the cell ceiling. "Hey, there might be guys who look like wizards here, and snow, and a Frost Maiden, but I didn't see any fauns or talking lions. No way we're in freaking Narnia."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

The sound of a heavy bolt being drawn back, and the creak of a door's hinges, warned Jack that someone was entering the cell block. He rolled up the wire saw and stuffed it into a pocket. He'd been cutting through the bar from the inside, despite that being more difficult than feeding the wire around the bar and cutting from the outside, so that the cut would be invisible to anyone outside the cell. Even so he took the precaution of rubbing dirt over the shallow groove. He retreated back to the wall, sat down, and began to play with his invisible baseball again.

Maugrim strode into the corridor between the cells, a sneer on his face, not actually twirling the tips of his mustache but definitely looking as if he was considering the gesture. Behind him walked a girl who would have been the sole focus of every eye in any other company. A tall Nordic blonde, clad in skin-tight black leather, with her face bedecked with a score of piercings. Her eyebrows, her nose, her ears, and even her cheeks bore gold rings and jeweled studs. A whip with several thongs hung at her belt and dangled down beside her high leather boots. The leather armor that covered her breasts had vicious-looking steel spikes protruding from the nipple area.

Immediately behind Miss Whiplash was Lady Cold Circle, her helmet set aside to reveal a pretty face topped with short blonde hair, and following her was the tall Elk Tribe barbarian. Bringing up the rear were two figures so outlandish that they drew all the attention away from Maugrim and his other companions.

Jack's jaw dropped so low that he thought it was going to hit his chest. "Holy crap!" he gasped. "We really are in friggin' Narnia."

They were eight feet tall, muscled heavily enough to make Teal'c and Daelan look puny, and held massive clubs in their huge hands. They were naked, and thickly covered with hair, but at groin level the covering was pitifully inadequate to conceal the very obvious fact that they were male. They walked on broad cloven-hoofed feet. Their heads were… impossible. Long-muzzled, crowned with long bovine horns, the creatures had the heads of bulls.

"Minotaurs!" Daniel exclaimed. "This is amazing. Some of the System Lords' Jaffa wear helmets of that shape but these are obviously real flesh and bone. The helmets must be based on these creatures."

"I dread to think what those Jaffa wear, uh, down there," Sam said.

"Oh, just the usual armor and kilt," Daniel replied, "although I guess they might have some sort of, uh, codpiece underneath."

Maugrim scowled. He shouted something incomprehensible and rapped the butt of his staff on the stone flags.

"Don't tell me, let me guess," Jack said. "He's annoyed at us rubber-necking at the minotaurs and not being suitably impressed by his magnificent evilness."

"You pretty much hit the nail on the head," Daniel said.

Maugrim spoke again. The pierced woman added a comment, as did Lady Cold Circle, and then Maugrim addressed the two women. Daniel passed on a précis of their speech.

"Maugrim's a typical over-dramatic Evil Overlord," Daniel said. "He's just worked out that the translation isn't working any longer and he's pissed. The, uh, girl with the piercings is complaining that there isn't much point in her torturing us if she can't tell us what she wants to know or understand what we spill."

"Sensible," said Jack, "but creepy."

Daniel bit on his lower lip. "Unfortunately she says she's more than happy to torture us anyway, for the pleasure of her goddess, although it won't help Maugrim any."

"Ah." Jack bounced his imaginary baseball. "Not good."

"Lady Cold Circle seems more amused than anything," Daniel went on. "You know, she doesn't seem too bad, really."

"Except for being the Evil Overlord's henchwoman," Jack reminded him.

"Good point," Daniel conceded.

Maugrim's face was fixed in a stern glower. He strode along the corridor, pausing in front of each set of bars, and glaring at each cell's occupant in turn. Finally he fixed his gaze on Daniel and spoke slowly and loudly.

"Uh-oh," Daniel said. "That's not good."

"What did he say?" Jack asked.

"He says he knows that I can understand him and, unless I answer his questions, he's going to give Sam to the minotaurs."

Jack grimaced. He glanced at the other members of Maugrim's group. The dominatrix type was pouting, as if a toy she wanted to play with was being taken from her and given to someone else, but Lady Cold Circle was frowning deeply. Jack mentally filed away the woman's obvious unhappiness at the prospect of Samantha's fate and turned his attention back to the immediate concern. "Okay, I guess you'd better answer," he told Daniel, "but vague everything up. Don't let him know just how well you can speak the lingo."

"Sure thing," Daniel said. He spoke to Maugrim, haltingly, in the mash-up of German and Old Welsh that he'd used to Kenadi before she'd come up with the translation effect.

Maugrim gave a cold smile, folded his arms, and addressed Daniel in a long string of words. Rising inflections at the ends of sentences indicated that either he was this planet's equivalent of an Australian or else he was asking questions.

Daniel replied, pausing frequently as if having difficulty finding the right words, much less fluently than in his last translated conversations with Kenadi. He threw in an occasional English word and Jack had to struggle to keep a straight face at what he heard.

Eventually Maugrim snarled out a reply, spun on his heel, and walked off.

"So, Daniel," Jack said, "what did you tell him?"

"Uh, that we had traveled through the wardrobe searching for the land of Narnia, where it's always winter and never Christmas, and we'd kind of gone astray and ended up in pretty much the opposite place," Daniel replied. "I think he guessed I was jerking his chain but I messed up the language enough so that he couldn't be sure."

"And you told him we were Dorothy, the Tin Man, the Scarecrow and the Cowardly Lion, right?"

Daniel nodded. "The kids in the Narnia books were two boys and two girls, which didn't fit, plus I couldn't remember all their names off the top of my head," he said, "so I filled in with the characters out of Oz. Except that I didn't say _Cowardly_ Lion. It didn't seem right for Teal'c."

Jack managed to maintain a poker face. "Indeed," he said. A snort that might have been a suppressed chuckle came from the direction of Sam's cell and Daniel gave Jack a grin. "You'd better not have cast me as the Scarecrow," Jack went on.

"No, that was me," Daniel said. "You were the Tin Man, of course."

"Of course," said Jack, grinning back at Daniel. "You think he's given up on the idea of interrogating us? It won't exactly get him very far if he can't understand any of us except you, and you can probably make his head spin round like you do mine."

"For now, yeah," Daniel said, "although I bet he can come up with something like Kenadi used. I can't see it being unique."

"That's what I thought. Still, hopefully it'll take him a while, and we can use that time to figure out how to get out of these cages." Jack's grin disappeared and his eyes narrowed. "And then we kill him."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

"Hey!" Jack yelled. "Room service!"

"This is not a hotel, O'Neill," Teal'c said.

"Yeah, I know, but if they don't give us something to eat sometime soon I'm going to gnaw off my own leg."

"Shouting in English is pretty pointless, Jack," Daniel pointed out. "I'll yell out a translation, if you like, but I'm not sure it'll do any good. The skeleton across from Sam is a little hint that they aren't all that hot on feeding their prisoners."

"Just do it," Jack said. Daniel raised his eyebrows but did as Jack requested.

"I figure they won't let us starve," Jack said, after Daniel had yelled a few times. The door to the cell block opened as he was speaking. "It would make it pretty hard for Maugrim to get any information out of us if we were just dried out corpses."

"I wouldn't count on that," a female voice said. Lady Cold Circle came into view in the corridor. She wasn't wearing armor this time but a figure-hugging white gown and a blue cloak. "I can Speak With Dead."

"Fascinating," Daniel muttered.

Jack's eyebrows shot up. "Hey! You're speaking English."

"Actually, no," Lady Cold Circle replied. She touched her fingers to a pendant that hung around her neck. "Maugrim came up with an item that translates."

"Oh? Can I see?" Daniel asked.

"Hey, I want a look too," Jack put in. He could see the usefulness of such a device, not only in their present situation but in the future, but primarily he just wanted Lady Cold Circle to come up close to the bars. If he could get her in a finger-lock it would be a whole new ball game, especially if she had a key to the cells…

The looming bulk of a minotaur, clip-clopping along behind the woman, put an end to that idea.

"On second thoughts, I'm not interested," Jack said. "Show Daniel."

"Daniel is the handsome one with the glass lenses to improve his vision, am I right?" Lady Cold Circle smiled. "They are of an interesting design that, unlike those with which I am familiar, does not make him unattractive. Quite the reverse."

"Uh, thanks," Daniel said.

"I do not think that a visual inspection of the translator will be of benefit to you," Lady Cold Circle went on, "but I am more than happy to show you." She stood in front of Daniel's cell and bent forward, raising her chin, giving Daniel a clear view of the amulet nestled in her cleavage. "Do you like what you see?"

"I'd kind of hoped for a closer inspection," Daniel said.

"Perhaps that could be arranged," Lady Cold Circle said, straightening up slowly and fluttering her eyelashes, "after you have given Maugrim the information he desires."

"Information such as?" Jack put in. "How our weapons work, how to operate the Stargate, that sort of thing, right? It's not going to happen."

She turned to face him. "It is. You might as well tell us immediately and save yourself the pain. Maugrim always gets what he wants."

"What he's going to get from me," Jack said, "is a bullet in the face."

"Where is he, anyway?" Daniel asked.

Lady Cold Circle shrugged. "He is directing the search for a certain item we require. It is none of your concern." She took a few paces along the corridor, looking in at each of the cells, and then returned to Daniel's cell again. "I believe you were requesting food?"

Daniel nodded. "If you're not planning on starving us to death it would be a good idea to feed us."

"I bear you no ill will," she replied. "I shall arrange food for you. It will be very… basic, I am afraid. Many of the kitchen staff perished when your late friend, and her companion, attacked this complex."

Daelan growled out something in his own language. It was not translated; obviously the device at Lady Cold Circle's throat only worked on things actually said by the lady herself.

"I accept that," she said to the big man in reply. She talked with Daelan for a minute or so, in a discussion that meant little to Jack, especially as he could only understand one side of the exchange. He occupied himself with juggling his invisible baseball and waited.

"Hey, Lady, we had food in our packs," Jack said, as soon as the two locals had finished their conversation. "Just pre-packaged military rations, and they taste like crap, but we're used to them. Dig out the rations, give them to us, and it saves your guys work and keeps us fed. A win-win situation."

"That seems logical," Lady Cold Circle said.

"There was a book," Daniel put in. "Kenadi gave it to me, but Jack took it off me before I could do much reading."

"Because you kept walking into trees, nerd boy," Jack reminded him.

"Well, that's not going to happen now," Daniel said. "Could I have it back? Pretty please?"

"Yes, if it is innocuous," Lady Cold Circle agreed. "If it is 'A Hundred Ways To Escape Prison', then the answer is no."

"From what I'd seen of it, it's a guide to your world's religions," Daniel told her.

"If that is truly the case then I agree," she replied, "although I must point out that, if it was written in Neverwinter, it will not be objective about the worship of Auril. In return, however, you must answer one question for me."

"That kind of depends what the question is," Jack said, pre-empting whatever answer Daniel would have given. "If it's 'How do we conquer Earth?' then you can take the book, and the rations, and shove them."

"I was merely going to ask from which country, or world, or plane you came from," the Lady said. "It seems you have already answered that. Earth. I have heard of that world. It is said that our ancestors, and even some of our gods, originated on Earth thousands of years ago. More recently the bard who gave Shar, Umberlee, and Talona their new hymns came from there."

"Oh. That's pretty much what brought us here," Jack said. "We found out there'd been contact between our worlds that we hadn't known about. So, who is the guy who taught your guys _We're Not Gonna Take It_?"

"I gather that his name is Giles," she replied, "but word of him comes from hundreds of miles to the south of here and I know little. Songs travel, passed on from bard to bard, further than do their singers."

"Especially as you probably don't have tour buses here," Jack said. He saw a crease appear between Lady Cold Circle's eyebrows. "Hey, don't worry about it. So, the food?"

"And the book," Daniel added.

"Very well," she said. "I shall have both food and book brought to you."

"Great," Jack said. "The rations are in packs, made of metal foil, labeled 'MRE' and 'Meal, Ready to Eat, Individual'. Oh, and there are blocks of food concentrate too. They taste vile but contain a lot of energy. They're labeled 'C4'."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

"Okay," Jack said, "so they're playing 'Good cop, bad cop'. She's the good cop." He paused to eat a little Beef Teriyaki. "My guess is the bad cop will be next."

"Miss Whiplash," Carter said.

"Unless the Lord Voldemort wannabe comes back to do the interrogation himself," Daniel said.

"Either way it's not going to be fun," Jack said, "but at least we won't be facing it on an empty stomach. And we have coffee. It might be the mediocre beverage pack version but it will stave off caffeine deprivation."

"Nice work getting the C4, sir," Sam praised, "although, without detonators, I'm not sure how much use it's going to be."

"Rigging a detonator is your job, Carter," Jack said. "Do you still have your watch?"

"No, sir," Sam replied. "You obviously didn't notice, but Lady Cold Circle was wearing it." She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "That's a pretty stupid name for a girl, anyway, isn't it?"

"I think it's a title, not a name," Daniel said. "I've found a bit about the Church of Auril..."

"Daniel," Jack said, "put the book down for a while and eat something, okay?"

"I can read while I'm eating," Daniel said.

With the bars keeping them apart Jack couldn't go over and smack Daniel upside the head, the only real way of stopping him from reading, and so Jack didn't bother pushing it. "So, Carter, a detonator?"

"I don't know, sir," Sam replied. "If I had my watch, which I don't, I could make a timer, but for the actual detonator… well, you're the one who looks like MacGyver."

"Unfortunately the operative words in that sentence are 'looks like'," Jack said. "Can you rig something out of the chemical heater in the MREs?"

"That would be a no," Sam said. "The best I could do, with the materials in the cell, would be to light the C4 on fire. If you come up with a plan that needs unpleasant toxic smoke I'll go ahead. Otherwise it's not worth it."

"Crap. Oh, well, better us having the C4 than them, even if we can't use it right now," Jack said. "Maybe something will turn up. On the plus side, working out where to place the charges gave me an idea for a better way of getting through the doors than sawing through the bars. It's still going to take time but probably only a few days."

"That's great, sir!" Sam exclaimed.

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed.

"This is incredible!" Daniel said.

"Going a little over the top there, aren't you, Danny boy?" Jack commented. "Or didn't you think I can have good ideas?"

"What was that, Jack?" Daniel approached the bars of his cell, book in hand, and peered out. "I was kind of absorbed in the book. Did you say something?"

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

Jack took a break from sawing away at the hasp of the door lock, now almost at the point where a hard blow would snap the remaining metal, and ran a hand over his chin. "I could use a shave," he remarked. It was hard to keep track of the passage of time, with their watches taken and no windows to admit daylight, but he estimated that they'd been captives now for two days. "I'm starting to get a little prickly here."

"I also, O'Neill," Teal'c said. "A perceptible growth of hair is now present on my head. It is no longer pristine."

"I'm getting stubbly too," Daniel chimed in. "Somewhat Indiana Jones, perhaps, but I wouldn't turn down a shave if I got the chance."

"In case your flirting with the Ice Queen moves on to the making out stage?" Jack grinned as Daniel stammered out a denial of the possibility. "Yeah, whatever, Space Indy. They're not going to pass out any razors so we'll just have to live with it. All of us are going to get a bit scratchy. Except Carter. She doesn't have that problem."

"Actually, sir, that's not exactly true," Sam put in.

"Oh," Jack said. "Uh, right."

"My legs, sir," Sam went on. "Just what were you thinking?"

"Nothing, nothing," Jack said. "Your legs. Of course."

The sound of the cell block door opening broke Jack's chain of thought. He coiled the wire saw, slipped it into a pocket, and retreated back to the inner wall of the cell. His nose wrinkled as the smell from the grating in the corner, the cell's only toilet, renewed its assault upon his senses as he moved back into close proximity. He ignored it and went into his imaginary baseball-bouncing routine.

He'd expected the arrival to be Lady Cold Circle. She'd made several visits so far, behaving in a reasonably friendly manner to all of SG-1 and treating Daelan with polite respect, but concentrating her attention on Daniel. How much of it was part of her 'good cop' role and how much was genuine attraction was difficult to judge but, Jack guessed, at least some of it was real. It certainly provided scope for teasing Daniel and that was about the only amusement available in their confined state.

It wasn't her. Instead it was the leather-clad chick with the facial piercings who entered, accompanied by two minotaurs, and made her way to Daniel's cell. "You're the one Melmyrna fancies, aren't you?" the woman said. She was obviously either wearing Lady Cold Circle's translation amulet or had another of her own. "I can see the attraction," she continued. "Handsome and intelligent. Unfortunately for you the only attribute that interests me in a man is his pain threshold."

"Oh crap," Jack said. "Bad cop time."

"Take this one," the woman ordered the minotaurs. She used a key to open the lock of Daniel's cell door, stood aside, and waited as the massive creatures entered and seized Daniel. They dragged him out and frog-marched him along the corridor.

"You're wasting your time," Daniel said, as he was hustled along. "I'm a stranger on this world. I don't know anything about this war you seem to be having. Even if I talk it won't mean anything to you."

"Oh, that's quite alright," the girl said, her tone cheerful. "Torturing people is my religious duty. There's no requirement for you to actually divulge any useful information. That's Maugrim's problem. I just want to hear you scream."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

Jack filled in the time while Daniel was away by working away at the door hasp. He had hoped that the noise of the wire saw rasping on steel would drown out Daniel's distant screams. It didn't.

Eventually he was satisfied that he'd cut sufficiently far through to be able to snap the remaining metal, and burst the door open, as soon as he judged the moment to be right. He considered passing the saw on to Teal'c but decided to wait. Transferring the saw would involve some fiddly maneuvering, sticking their arms out through the bars of the doors and swinging the wire saw until Teal'c could grab it, and it might not be easy to pull back quickly if the guards brought Daniel back right in the middle of the operation.

Jack sat back against the wall and waited. Time dragged on, punctuated by muffled screams and, chillingly, an occasional faint sound of feminine giggles, until after what was probably between two and three hours the corridor door swung open once more.

The woman with the metal-bedecked face strutted in, a broad smile on her face, and her hands and forearms smeared with red up to her elbows. She was followed by a single minotaur, holding Daniel by an ankle, and it dragged him along the floor. Daniel was semi-naked, his head lolled limp on his neck, and his body bore scores of cuts and blisters. Red streaks on the flagstones marked his trail.

Jack was on his feet and at the door grille before he even realized he was moving. "You are going to pay for this," Jack said. "That's not a threat, it's a promise. I'm going to kill you, bitch."

The woman turned her head and smiled at him. Her eyes, like those of Lady Cold Circle, were blue. Jack would have expected to see something crazy in them, some reflection of the sick personality inside, but in fact they seemed perfectly normal. "I don't think so. The opposite, rather. I was going to choose who would be next by throwing dice but you've just moved yourself to the head of the queue. Congratulations."

"I also vow vengeance against you, woman," Teal'c put in.

"Me too," Sam added her voice. "You are going to get your ass kicked."

"Oh?" The torturer walked over to Sam's cell, staying far enough back to be out of reach of a grasping arm, and looked in at her. "Do you threaten me with pain?"

"That's the general idea," Sam said.

The woman laughed. "You have no idea to whom you speak, do you?" She put her hand to her face, took hold of one of the piercings, and pulled. Her cheek stretched out until eventually the piercing tore free. Blood ran down her cheek, along her chin, and dripped onto her leathers. She ran her tongue around her mouth, revealing that it too was pierced, and licked at the blood. "I live for pain," she purred. "To one such as I, initiated into the highest mysteries of Loviatar, pain is pleasure."

"Okay, so you're sick as well as a psycho," Jack said.

The woman strolled over to stand in front of Jack's cell. She touched a finger to her bloody cheek, murmured something too quietly for Jack to make out, and lowered her hand. Jack narrowed his eyes. It looked as if her cheek was now unmarked except for the trail of blood. The bleeding appeared to have stopped. The woman fiddled with the metal bar that she had ripped out, unscrewing one end and scraping the point clean with her fingernails, and then took hold of her cheek. She forced the bar through skin and flesh, starting a new flow of blood, and rolled her head. She licked her lips, uttered a low moan, and then screwed the retainer onto the bar. She pressed her finger to her cheek under the piercing, muttered under her breath again, and once more the bleeding stopped.

"Fascinating," Daniel croaked from the floor, as the minotaur dragged him past the woman. He received a kick in the face as a response.

"Dump him back in his cage," the torturer commanded the minotaur. She unlocked the door, watched as her command was obeyed, and then turned back to Jack. "I'll come back later to entertain another of you," she said. "Probably you, because you are annoying, but it might be the girl. Or the taciturn dark one, to see if he can maintain his brevity of speech when his skin is being peeled away, or perhaps Daniel again. That would upset Melmyrna and that's always amusing."

"Yeah, well, feel free to take your time," Jack said. "It's not like we're not going anywhere."

"Correct," she said. "Unless, of course, you decide to place your knowledge at Maugrim's disposal, in which case you would become honored guests instead of prisoners. He might even allow you to take vengeance against me for my treatment of your friend. A flogging, perhaps. Wouldn't you like to lay a lash across my naked back?"

Jack could see welts on Daniel's back, obviously made by a whip, and strange red blistered patches that were the exact size and shape of the psycho girl's hands with fingers outspread. "It's tempting," he said, "but knowing you'd enjoy it would make it a little pointless. I think I'll pass."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

If it was acting it was worthy of an Oscar, or at least a Golden Globe, Jack thought. Lady Cold Circle's eyes were moist with tears and her lip trembled as she spoke.

"Daniel…"

Daniel could only groan in reply. Lady Cold Circle took out a key and opened his cell door.

She was alone, no minotaurs in sight, and she wasn't wearing her armor. Jack considered throwing his weight against his door, snapping the sawn-through lock hasp, grabbing the key from her and letting everyone out. The snag was that Daniel was in no shape to move. Lady Cold Circle would be no pushover anyway, as she had displayed dangerous and inexplicable abilities during the fight in which SG-1 had been captured, and if Jack tried a break now and failed they probably wouldn't get another chance. Reluctantly Jack decided to stick with his original plan and wait until all the locks had been sawn through.

Lady Cold Circle knelt down beside Daniel. She set down the pillow-sized bundle that she was carrying, produced a roll of bandage, and unwound part of it. "I'm sorry I have to do this," she said softly, "but I can't trust you yet not to attack me once you're healed." She began to wrap the bandage around Daniel's arms, fastening them together, and once she had done that she got out another bandage roll and did the same to his legs.

"What are you playing at, lady?" Jack asked, his tone sharp. "Your friend the Mistress of Pain gets her kicks out of hurting people. Do you get yours out of tying people up? Isn't anyone in this place just, you know, normal?"

"Vhonna is no friend of mine," she replied, looking across at Jack, "and this gives me no pleasure." She lowered her eyes to Daniel again. "You are brave as well as handsome," she said, "and I wish we had met in different circumstances. Be healed." She touched her fingers to his forehead.

Jack's jaw dropped. He narrowed his eyes and squinted to be sure that he was seeing what he thought he was seeing.

"You should be able to free yourself of the bandages easily enough," Lady Cold Circle told Daniel. "There are clean clothes for you in the sack. If you stuff the empty sack with straw it may do you service as a pillow. I wish there was more that I could do for you but, for the moment, that is all I can do. Rest now."

Yes, Jack really had seen it. The lacerations, bruises, and burns were all gone from Daniel's skin. Lady Cold Circle had healed him with a brief verbal command. Compared to this the Tok'ra healing devices were clumsy and inefficient.

"Thanks," Daniel said, his voice back to normal. "You couldn't, uh, bring me my glasses, could you? I left them behind in the torture chamber."

"They are in the sack atop the clothes," Lady Cold Circle told him. "Next time she comes for you I would advise you to leave them behind in the cell."

"What's she doing to him?" asked Sam, who could hear what was going on but could see nothing.

"She has healed him," Teal'c informed her. "Most interesting."

"Interesting is one way of putting it," Jack said. He wondered how much of Lady Cold Circle's concern was genuine and how much was her playing the 'good cop' role to the hilt. She wasn't asking any questions this time but if she did, perhaps after another torture session or two, Daniel could well slip up and let out some answers.

Lady Cold Circle dipped down, pressed her lips briefly to Daniel's forehead, and then stood up. "Goodbye, Daniel," she said. She left the cell, locked the door again, and headed for the cell block exit.

It opened before she reached it. Miss Whiplash strode through, smirking, followed by the two minotaurs and the big Elk Tribe barbarian. There was someone else behind them but Jack's view was obscured by what was virtually a wall of muscle.

"Haven't you had enough 'entertainment' for one evening, Vhonna?" Lady Cold Circle asked. Icy contempt was evident in her tone.

"This is not for my amusement only. Lord Maugrim has received some news," Vhonna replied, "and it reminded him that there were questions he had neglected to ask. Oh, don't worry, Melmyrna, I won't be playing with your precious toy."

"I doubt that it will please him if you take one of his comrades in his place," Lady Cold Circle, whose real name appeared to be Melmyrna, said.

"In that case he, and presumably you also, will be relieved to hear that I have no such intention."

Jack realized her meaning at once. She'd brought two minotaurs as escort when she came for Daniel; the extra back-up had to mean that this time she was after one of the big men, Teal'c or Daelan, and therefore it was Daelan who had drawn the short straw.

"It was my impression that you believed the half-orc barbarian to be no more than a mindless brute," said Lady Cold Circle, who had obviously made the same deduction as Jack, "and not worth the effort of interrogation."

"As long as he feels pain it is worthwhile," the other woman said. "Maugrim believes he knows something."

"I shall leave you to it, then," Lady Cold Circle said. She wove her way between the massive guards and left the prison.

Vhonna the dominatrix went to Daelan's cell. "Put your arms out through the bars, Red Tiger," she commanded.

Daelan spoke in reply. Jack guessed that it was a refusal.

"Fyrvos, to me," Vhonna ordered. The minotaurs moved to allow someone to pass through from behind.

Jack's jaw dropped for about the tenth time since he'd arrived on this planet. He was beginning to think that it would save time just to keep it hanging down almost touching his chest. The newcomer was a little man, hardly more than four feet tall, but broad in proportion. The short man's head was bald but a bushy white beard adorned his chin. His skin was gray.

The dwarf – the guy had to be a dwarf, straight out of Fantasy land, he couldn't be anything else – was holding a crossbow. He aimed it through the cell bars at Daelan.

"If you do not do as I say he will simply shoot you," Vhonna told the barbarian. "When you are too weak from loss of blood to resist we will take you anyway."

Daelan grunted out a reply, moved to the bars, and extended his arms as ordered. The minotaurs grabbed them. Jaevgrim the Elk Tribe barbarian joined them and, after a brief and apparently heated discussion, added his strength to that of one of the minotaurs and broke Daelan's right arm. The procedure was repeated with the left. Vhonna then opened up the door and Daelan, crippled and unable to fight back, was hustled away.

"They don't seem to take chances," Sam remarked, once the cell block door had closed. "That was… brutal."

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed.

"Hey, Teal'c, buddy," Jack said. "It would probably be a good idea not to give away quite how strong you are. You can't hide your size but don't let them see that you're stronger than a Taur'i would be."

"That is wise advice, O'Neill," Teal'c said. "I do not wish my arms to be broken. I shall do as you say."

Jack nodded, pointlessly as Teal'c couldn't see him, and fished the wire saw out of his pocket. It would be a good idea to find an alternative hiding place for it in future, he decided, rather than in clothes that might be ripped off during interrogations. Daniel was now wearing breeches and a tunic, provided by Lady Cold Circle, and his BDUs were somewhere unknown. Jack stuck his hand out of the bars on the closest side to Teal'c and began to swing the saw. "Grab it, Teal'c, and get to cutting," he said. "If someone comes stash it under the straw. You should be able to do an hour or so of sawing while they're working on the big guy. The sooner we get out of this place the better."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

They brought Daelan back after perhaps an hour, more dead than alive, in an even worse state than Daniel had been. Lady Cold Circle arrived later and healed him, including somehow resetting the broken limbs; this time, unlike with Daniel, by reaching through the bars until she could touch Daelan's foot and then snatching her hand back quickly. Obviously she regarded the huge barbarian as too dangerous for her to enter the cage at all.

She exchanged some brief words with him; it wasn't easy to follow a conversation when only one side was comprehensible, it was a little like listening to someone across the room talking on the telephone, but Jack picked up that there was a degree of mutual respect between the two. They were on opposite sides of a war and that was pretty much it. If this world had a Geneva Convention she'd follow it.

Unlike Vhonna.

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

"Take a seat," Maugrim offered. "Would you like a cup of tea? Or coffee?"

"I'll take coffee," Jack said, sitting down in the indicated chair. He was a little surprised at the Evil Overlord apparently playing the 'good cop' part but he was all in favor of postponing the stage where they got out the hot irons. Also, he wasn't going to turn down caffeine. Maybe it was drugged but they could always pour it down his throat with a funnel. Drinking it in a civilized fashion would be a lot less unpleasant.

"Colonel Jack O'Neill," Maugrim said, as a serving wench with a traditionally large bosom dished out cups of coffee. "I gather that you are a respected warrior in your own land."

"You could say that," Jack said. He cast an appraising eye over Maugrim's bodyguard. A woman, clad in plate armor, armed with a honking big sword. She wasn't quite human; she had the same long, pointed, ears as the girl who had killed Kenadi. Her skin was the pinkish shade of a European, instead of Cierre's jet black, and she was several inches shorter than the woman Jack had last seen bleeding to death in the snow.

Jack was mainly interested in assessing her combat capability. He was all in favor of grabbing Maugrim and trying to twist his arm off at the shoulder, as long as the Evil Overlord didn't do the intangibility trick that he had used to avoid getting riddled with 5.7 mm bullets, but there didn't seem much point if it would only get him a closer acquaintance with the pointy end of a sword. Unfortunately her stance, and the effortless way she held that big honking Fantasy sword, led him to the deduction that she was in the same league as the late Kenadi. A face-full of hot coffee would cramp her style more than somewhat; unfortunately the psycho torturer Vhonna and her pet minotaurs were waiting outside the room.

Reluctantly Jack concluded that there was no realistic prospect of mounting a successful escape attempt and that attacking Maugrim, although it would give him some immediate satisfaction, wouldn't help the overall situation. He decided to play along with the Evil Overlord for the moment.

"Okay, so I'm a respected warrior," Jack said. "At least the US Air Force respects me enough to pay me and give me a nice uniform. What's your point?"

"We met in unfortunate circumstances," Maugrim said. "You were in the company of my enemy and thus I gave you a hostile reception. Had I realized that your group are in fact strangers to this world, and not party to the conflict between Luskan and Neverwinter, you would have been treated with more courtesy."

"Now, that's odd," Jack said, "seeing as how I remember you referring to us as 'strangers' and talking about getting us to reveal the 'mysteries of the portal' when you captured us. And right after you chopped off the head of a girl who'd gone out of her way to be friendly and helpful to us. That kind of sticks in the mind."

"We are fighting a war against a ruthless and militarily superior foe," Maugrim said. "Consequently we have been forced into, on occasion, committing acts that are equally ruthless." He leant forward, with his elbows on the desk, and steepled his fingers. "Now, if you were to assist us, and put your skills and weapons at our disposal, we could bring a swift end to this war and restore peace to the North."

"Don't tell me," Jack said, "let me guess. You want us to tell you how to use the Gate to put a force behind enemy lines. Maybe us in person, maybe some of your people with our weapons, to launch a decapitating," he grimaced as he remembered Kenadi's head rolling across the ground, "strike against the Neverwinter command structure. Am I warm?"

Maugrim nodded. "Castle Never is warded against conventional teleportation but the song portals work on different principles. With Lord Nasher and his guards out of the picture Neverwinter's resistance would collapse."

"And everything would be happiness and joy and fluffy bunnies? Yeah, right."

"Nasher is an incompetent and brutal ruler," the woman bodyguard put in. She took a couple of paces to the side, and then back again, and Jack noticed something strange.

Her boobs jiggled. She was wearing plate armor and yet they actually bounced. Jack took a closer look. The breastplate of the armor was definitely a _breast_ plate. Separately articulated. It even seemed to have an arrangement of flat springs to enhance the bounce.

"I served Nasher loyally for years," the woman continued, "and yet he had my beloved executed for mere political expedience. He must die."

Jack took a slow sip of the coffee. It was pretty good. Not just a plant resembling coffee but the real thing. Imported from Earth along with the ancestors of the humans, presumably. "I don't know the guy," Jack said, "and we don't get involved in internal disputes. If you want to kill him that's your business." He set the cup down. "You think we'll help you? Bite my shiny metal ass. No, wait, you're the one with the shiny metal ass. Eat my shorts."

"Your what?" The pointed-eared woman's elegantly-shaped eyebrows climbed high.

"It means we are not going to help you. We're not going to fight on your side. We're not going to teach your guys how to use our weapons. We're not going to teach you how to use the Stargate. And, if you think you can use it to get behind your enemies' lines, forget it. It doesn't work that way."

"The song portals of Illefarn linked one to another," Maugrim insisted.

"Well, maybe the one we came out of is a different kind of portal," Jack said.

"Even so, the principles behind it must be the same," Maugrim said, talking more to himself than to Jack. He fixed his gaze directly on Jack's eyes and adopted a smile. "There is so much that you could teach us. In return we could give you gold, gems, land – whatever material goods you desire."

"Naqahdah?" Maugrim's blank look was all the answer Jack needed. He shook his head. "You've got nothing we want," he said, "and we wouldn't trade with a cut-price Voldemort knock-off like you even if you had naqahdah coming out of your ears."

Maugrim showed his teeth for a second and then his smile reappeared. "Then out of good will, in the interests of friendship between our peoples," he said. His tone seemed to drip honey.

"Are you freaking serious?" Jack raised his eyes to the heavens and brought them down in time to catch a flash of light in Maugrim's eyes. Not the golden glow of Goa'uld possession but perhaps something similar. Jack put that together with the syrupy tone of voice, as smooth as Kinsey talking to the media or buttering up voters, and guessed what was happening. The weasel was trying some form of mind control, hypnosis, or subliminal influence. Now that he was aware of it Jack was conscious of a sensation somewhere at the back of his mind as if he was being urged to go along with anything Maugrim said. Yeah, right. Jack had been there before. It wasn't hard to ignore the urgings; all he had to do was remember all the other times he'd experienced mind games, such as from Hathor more than once, Seth's nish'ta drug, and Administrator Calder's little subterranean slave labor camp. Not a fun time.

"Be reasonable," Maugrim went on. "I am not your enemy. I desire only to bring peace and order to this wild region. Please, put your great wisdom and knowledge at my disposal to aid me in this worthy task."

Playing along might get some useful information and it would postpone the inevitable trip to Vhonna Queen of Pain's torture chamber. "Well, I guess maybe I could give your people a few pointers," Jack conceded. "I wouldn't want them to kill themselves playing with the P-90s." Actually Jack would stand up and cheer if Maugrim's minions blew their own heads off, even more if they accidentally put a dozen bullets through Maugrim at groin level, but Jack managed to keep his voice sounding reasonably sincere.

"Excellent, my friend," Maugrim said, grinning. "I shall arrange that later. First, perhaps, you might be able to clear up a small point. Did Kenadi Nefret mention, in the time that you were traveling together, anything about a Word of Power?"

"Nope," Jack answered. "Should she have done?" It occurred to him that he might not be being respectful enough if he was supposed to be being influenced by Maugrim's mind control, or whatever, considered adding 'Master', decided that it would be going a little too far the other way, and compromised. "Lord Maugrim," he tagged onto the end of his question.

"Did you, then, perhaps notice any stone tablets in her possession?" Maugrim continued. "This big," he made a shape with his hands, "and engraved with symbols."

"If Daniel had seen any engraved stone tablets you'd have had to pry them out of his cold dead hands," Jack said. "No, Lord Maugrim, we saw nothing like that."

Maugrim kept the smile on his lips but his brows creased in a frown. "Then where could they be?" he muttered, thinking aloud rather than speaking to Jack.

"Did you look in her pack?" Jack asked. "Uh, Lord Maugrim."

"What did you say?" asked the woman with the spring-loaded breasts.

"Her back-pack," Jack said. "You weren't there, but she wore a big back-pack. Must have weighed, oh, fifty pounds easy. She put it down when she had to fight that black girl. There it was, right on the ground, just 'three miles from a fort of Neverwinter' according to Kenadi, with a whole load of blood and dead bodies scattered around to draw people's attention, and it could have been full of stone tablets for all I know." He raised his eyebrows. "Did you even look at it?"

The woman stared at Maugrim. "Is that right? Did you leave her pack unexamined?"

"I had no way of knowing that one of the Words had already been found," Maugrim said, sounding defensive. "I wanted it to seem that the Hero of Neverwinter's death was due to a mere chance encounter, not an ambush, and that Cierre was primarily responsible. There was no time to search the pack and taking it would have spoiled the impression I wished to create."

"Morag will be severely displeased if you have let a Word slip through your fingers," the woman stated.

Jack lost it. "Oh, man," he said, a chuckle slipping past his lips, "here am I thinking you're the Dark Lord and you're just a minion. Not Darth Vader, not Emperor Palpatine, just the Grand Moff Tarkin. And you screwed up. You had the thing she's looking for – Morag is a she, am I right? – in your hands and you didn't notice. You left it laying out there right in your enemies' back yard. Man, she is going to be pissed."

The pointy-eared woman frowned and tapped the amulet that hung just above her armor-clad breasts. "Much of that was incomprehensible. Is this thing working properly?"

Maugrim's fake smile had disappeared and been replaced by a scowl. "I believe so, Lady Aribeth. It is not a question of translation. Doubtless he refers to personages of his own world and their names mean nothing to us. What is more important is that my Charm spell has obviously failed."

"Damn, and I was stringing you along so well," Jack said. "I was just about to start calling you 'Master'."

"A humorist." Maugrim gave a tight little smile. "We shall see how long your humor survives under the ministrations of Vhonna Truescar."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

Vhonna ran her fingernails along Jack's naked stomach, through his pubic hair, and along his penis. "Interesting mutilation," she commented. "I noticed the same on Daniel. A tribal custom, I take it?"

"You could say that," Jack said. Being naked, with an attractive (even with her piercings) woman fondling his genitals, was a lot less fun in practice than it sounded in theory. Of course being chained to a table was something of a downer, unless your tastes ran that way and Jack's didn't, but it was the knowledge that Vhonna was a raving psychopath which was the real passion-killer. That and the smell of irons heating in the fire.

"Before we start," Vhonna said, "I have to give you the chance to avoid this. Will you agree to teach Maugrim's soldiers how to use your weapons? Or, alternatively, agree to use them on his behalf in an attack upon the Citadel of Neverwinter?"

"Sure, I'd be happy to give them a demonstration," Jack said.

"Of course," Vhonna said, "certain precautions would have to be taken to make sure that you carried out the task in the correct spirit. Your friend Daniel, or perhaps the woman, suspended over a pit of spikes – no, a pool of acid, so that no resurrection would be possible – in such fashion that simply releasing a rope, should you use your weapons against us, would send him, or her, plummeting to an agonizing death."

"In that case," Jack said, "I'll have to pass."

"Oh, good." Vhonna beamed. "I hoped you'd say that."

"Huh? You don't want me to help Maugrim?"

"Of course I don't," Vhonna said. "What do I care about his plans of conquest? The Wailing Death infuriated Talona, and thus amused my goddess, but apart from that I'm not even interested. I'm only here for the torture. Speaking of which," she reached behind her and produced a wooden-handled metal rod with a tip glowing cherry red, "it's about time we started."

She seized Jack's penis, held it so that the glans protruded clear of her gripping hand, and touched the rod to the vulnerable flesh. The shock made Jack think his heart was stopping. He cried out.

Vhonna burst into laughter. She pulled the rod back, lifted it to her face, and pressed it against the end of her nose. At about the same time Jack realized that the pain was nowhere near as severe as he had first thought.

"Your face!" Vhonna spluttered. "Oh, if you could only see yourself!" She took the rod away from her nose, revealing it to be completely unmarked, and licked the glowing tip. "It's a minor Light spell," she said. "The rod was chilled on a bed of ice cubes. The pain was just your imagination."

"Ha, ha, bitch, very funny," Jack growled.

"Yes, wasn't it?" Vhonna's amused grin grew even wider. "Now this," she half-turned and picked up another glowing rod, "is the real thing." She brought it down on Jack's belly. The initial sensation was not unlike that from the chilled rod but, as the smell of burning hair and flesh reached Jack's nose, the pain hit with full force. Jack couldn't stop himself from screaming.

"That's what I like to hear," Vhonna said. She spat on the steel to check that it was still red-hot, grinned as the spittle boiled off in an instant, and then applied it to the soles of Jack's feet. "Make me happy, Colonel Jack. Scream for me again."


	3. Load up on guns, bring your friends

**Chapter 3**

**Load up on guns, bring your friends…**

"We've been looking at this all wrong," Jack said. "We're not being tortured."

"We're not?" Daniel's eyebrows climbed above the rim of his glasses. "Funny, it feels remarkably like torture to me."

"And to me, sir," Sam agreed. She now wore white and blue robes, provided by Lady Cold Circle, to replace BDUs that had been shredded by a lash and soaked in her blood beyond all possibility of repair and cleaning.

"If it is not torture, O'Neill, then what?" asked Teal'c. He was suffering worse than any of the others; for some unknown reason Lady Cold Circle's healing did not work on him. Once Vhonna had learned of the symbiote she had included it in her torture. After each session it took several hours, in which his pain was alleviated only by bandages and salves applied by Lady Cold Circle, before Junior had recovered enough for Teal'c to enter kelno'reem and be healed. This had greatly delayed his progress in sawing through the hasp of the cell door.

"It's brainwashing," Jack explained, "or you could call it conditioning. Every time Melmyrna patches us up we feel a little more grateful to her. A little more amenable to her suggestions. A little more willing to talk. Friendlier, even. Hell, I just showed that myself when I called her by her name instead of her title. Another week or two and when she says 'jump' we'll say 'how high?' And then we're screwed."

"She's not a bad person, Jack," Daniel said.

"Hell, I know that," Jack admitted. "Or, at least, she's not as bad as the others, and I'm pretty sure she's not faking it. She's not enthusiastic about the torture, she works for Maugrim but she doesn't like him, and she wouldn't spit on Vhonna if the crazy bitch was on fire. And she really likes you."

"You think so?" A smile played on Daniel's lips.

"We're not blind, Daniel," Sam said.

"She brought you coffee," Jack said. "She doesn't do that for me."

"She probably would if you asked," Daniel said.

"Yeah, well, I don't want to ask her for anything," Jack said. "That's not the point. The point is, she's still the enemy. She wants to use us against Neverwinter."

"Because they outlawed her church," Daniel said. "I can sympathize."

"She's not the freakin' Dalai Lama, Daniel," Jack retorted. "Okay, yeah, religious oppression is a bad thing. That doesn't mean she was right to team up with a bunch of psychos on the basis of 'my enemy's enemy is my friend'. She's getting to you already."

Daniel sucked in his lips. "Perhaps a little," he conceded.

"Well, don't let it happen," Jack said. "We have to get out of here. If the only way involves going through Lady Cold Circle we don't hesitate."

"I don't want to kill her," Daniel protested.

"It might not be necessary to kill her, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said. "We may be able to neutralize her without using lethal force."

Jack shook his head. "I wouldn't count on it. Maybe if we can knock her out, and then tie her up and gag her, but otherwise she'd just heal herself as soon as she wakes up and she'll come right after us. Killing her is the only way to be sure." He spotted a pout on Daniel's lips and sighed. "It might not come to that, Daniel. Just carry on reading your book. Have you found out anything useful yet?"

Daniel perked up immediately. "The gods definitely aren't Goa'uld," he reported. "They're Ascended beings."

"Interesting, I guess," Jack conceded, "but not exactly what I'd call useful." He narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure? They don't sound much like Ascended beings to me. I can't see a Goddess of Torture being part of the same set-up as Oma Desala."

"Or Orlin," Sam put in. "The Ascended have rules against interfering with the people of the material world. Either the gods here are just myths and legends or else they're something completely different than the ones we've encountered before."

"Myths and legends can't grant their believers the power to heal wounds and diseases," Daniel pointed out. "It's not technology."

"It's not any technology we're used to," Sam said, "but that doesn't mean it isn't technology. The people with the powers here have amulets containing the translation devices. Their rings, their bracelets, I'm certain they all have gadgetry built in."

"Well, yes," Daniel conceded, "although they call it magic, but they can still do some amazing things without using any of those devices. They're a bit like the Nox. Well, except for them being evil, of course."

"I admit I don't understand how the Nox do things," Sam conceded, "but just because I don't understand the principles behind it doesn't make it magic."

"If it's gadgetry it's way more multi-purpose than anything the Goa'uld have, even the ribbon devices," Jack said. "On the other hand, what kind of Ascended being would dish out powers to a giggling psychopath whose idea of fun is to peel the skin off my hand and wear it as a glove? The things that Oma Desala said to Daniel sounded like Zen Buddhism to me. That doesn't exactly match up with a goddess whose High Priestess makes Sokar look like freakin' Gandhi. I don't get it."

"It doesn't tie in with anything Orlin told me, either," Sam said. "Pretty much the opposite."

"It's quite fascinating, actually," Daniel said. "This world, Toril, has a whole pantheon of gods with very different practices and outlooks. Evil ones, like Loviatar – and Lady Cold Circle's Auril – and Good ones, like Kenadi's goddess Mielikki. They're a little like the Ancient Greek gods in the way they meddle in this planet's affairs." He ran his tongue over his lips. "Apparently the most powerful of the Evil goddesses pretty much changed sides recently. Shar, Goddess of the Dark, is putting together a coalition of both Good and Evil gods and she's making the Evil ones play nice. Well, not all of them, just a few who have some common interests, but they're major players. She's even recruited Mielikki into the alliance, and she was Kenadi's goddess, so I guess that would put Shar more or less on our side. Unfortunately Auril isn't on her team."

"Okay," Jack said, "this is all very… interesting, to use the term in its loosest sense, but how does it help us?"

"It never hurts to know the full situation, Jack," Daniel said. "Melmyrna is supposed to do what her goddess wants. If I can convince her that Auril wouldn't be happy with her helping Maugrim then we could get her to help us."

"Daniel," Jack said, rolling his eyes, "you did say that Auril is Evil, right? And that would be Evil with a capital E?"

"That's because she's the Goddess of Winter, and humans mostly prefer it warm," Daniel responded. "Her religion is banned in Neverwinter. They have subterranean heat sources there, and warm ocean currents, and the weather is much milder than it should be this far North. Auril doesn't like that and that's why Melmyrna is on Maugrim's side. It doesn't mean Auril's necessarily all on board with everything the other Evil gods do." Daniel tapped his fingers against his lower lip. "I still think it's worth a try. We need to find out just what Maugrim's really up to. And who his boss, this 'Morag', is and what she's after. Maybe it'll give us something to work on."

Jack sucked in a deep breath. "Okay, it's not a bad idea. You see what you can get out of Lady Cold Circle. I'll be sure and ask Vhonna a few questions, in between screams, next time she's crushing my nipples with pliers." He forced a smile onto his face. It was getting harder and harder to keep up the façade of levity as the torture sessions ate away at his resilience. "The snag is," he went on, "I don't think she even cares what Maugrim's doing as long as she gets to hurt people. She's going to tell me exactly… jack."

Daniel groaned. "Please, Jack, I'm in no fit state to take punishment like that." The stress that he put on the first syllable of 'punishment' caused Jack to groan in return.

"Would you two save it until I'm not around to get caught in the crossfire?" Sam pleaded.

"Sorry," Jack said. "Back to business. Teal'c, how close are you to getting the door lock weakened enough to snap?"

"Not close enough, O'Neill," Teal'c answered. "The saw is wearing smooth and is losing its efficacy. I fear that it will be several more hours at least, perhaps a full day, before I have made sufficient progress."

"Crap," Jack muttered. It wasn't surprising; even the tungsten carbide coating on the saw couldn't be expected to stand up indefinitely to the abuse they'd been putting it through. Unfortunately, or through good design, the door locks had no keyhole on the inside, and the external access was positioned so that they couldn't be reached through the bars, making them impossible to pick. Sawing was the only viable approach.

"Okay, just press on as best you can," Jack told Teal'c. "When you've cut through enough to make it breakable then pass the saw on to Carter." He saw a frown on Daniel's face. "She's better at hand to hand than you, Daniel. When we make our break we need the most hitting power we can muster. We have to take them down fast and we'll probably be facing Vhonna and a minotaur."

"Wouldn't Daelan be even better than Sam for that?" Daniel suggested.

Jack pondered the idea for a moment. "If we could talk to him, yes," he decided, "but we can't, except for you, and that could cause problems in a fight. If we can't yell 'behind you!' or whatever… and don't say you'll do it from your cell because that just wouldn't work." He grinned suddenly. "But give him a heads-up. If we can shove the minotaur up against the bars of his cell…"

"That would indeed be a sound strategy, O'Neill," Teal'c agreed. "Daelan's strength is remarkable and I believe that he could neutralize the bovine-headed creature."

"I'll…" Daniel began to speak but chopped himself off short as the door to the cell block began to open.

Jack felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. Dread. Vhonna strode in, a beaming smile on her face, a minotaur at her heels and a robed wizard bringing up the rear. The priestess came to Jack's cell and stared in through the bars.

"We've worked out how to operate your weapons," she told him, "through a combination of divination spells and duergar ingenuity." She raised a Beretta, pointed it directly at Jack's face, and took up the slack on the trigger. "Would you like a demonstration?"

"I'll take your word for it," Jack said. "So, I guess that means you don't need us now. How about letting us go?" He didn't expect a positive reply but hoped that, if he kept her talking, she might come closer. If he could get hold of the pistol…

"A young man can learn the rudiments of swordplay in an afternoon," Vhonna said, "but if he then went up against Drizzt Do'Urden, or for that matter your late friend Kenadi, he would be dead in a heartbeat. I suspect that the same principle applies to your weapons. They have a limited supply of ammunition and we can therefore spare little for practice. You're still useful to Maugrim. It's a pity, because I'd enjoy torturing you to death, but breaking you is nearly as good. If you want out of here you will have to agree to a geas binding you to Maugrim's service."

"A geas? Isn't that a fat flightless bird like a pink dodo?" Sam put in.

"In this world it's a curse that'll kill you if you don't stick to the conditions," Daniel warned. "Don't agree to it, Jack."

"I've got three words for you," Jack told Vhonna. "Go fuck yourself." He watched her finger tightening on the trigger, saw the hammer lift, and set his jaw to stop himself cringing.

"You're not going to get off that lightly," Vhonna said. She released the trigger, lowered the gun, and turned to the minotaur. "Take the woman," she ordered. She ignored the curses that Jack spat out at her, watched as the creature dragged Sam from her cell, and then stepped over to the struggling Major. Vhonna spoke one word, laid her left hand almost gently against Sam's cheek, and Sam screamed in agony.

"Bitch!" Jack growled. He wanted to ask Vhonna to take him instead but he knew, from past experience, that it would be a futile gesture. All he could do was watch helplessly as Sam was frog-marched away.

Before she was hustled out of sight Jack caught a glimpse of the hand-print on her cheek. White blisters, red flesh oozing blood, it was as if Vhonna had used one of her red-hot irons and yet her hand had plainly been empty. Jack had seen similar wounds on Daniel but, so far, hadn't been the victim of that particular trick from Vhonna. It was something that would have to be taken into account when they made their move; her hands would be deadly weapons in a fight, as bad as facing a knife-fighter or a Shotokan Karate black belt.

Jack narrowed his eyes. Whenever Vhonna, or Lady Cold Circle or one of the guys with the pointy hats and the robes, did one of the things that they called 'magic' they always spoke one or more command words. Now, maybe it was micro-technology, or maybe it really was magic – hell, you could call it 'voice-activated manipulation of natural energy fields', except that life's too short to use names that unwieldy and 'VAMONEF' is a lousy acronym – but it definitely wasn't any kind of psionic power. Not when you needed to speak to use it. So, when the crunch came, Step One had to be to take out Vhonna's voice.

Preferably by crushing her larynx.

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

Jack groaned, stirred on his bed of straw, and opened his eyes. It was impossible to tell what time it was, with no day and night cycle in the windowless cell block, but the state of his bladder indicated that he'd been asleep for a reasonably long time. He picked himself up, staggered to the rear of the cell, and relieved himself down the grating. Only then did it occur to him that he'd been woken by the sound of a bell, muffled by the stone walls, but still clearly audible.

Normally it would have registered on him much earlier but the repeated torture was wearing him down. Vhonna was gradually cranking up the pace, increasing the frequency of the sessions, coming up with ever more ingeniously sadistic methods of inflicting unbearable agony and degrading humiliation, stretching to the limit Lady Cold Circle's ability to heal the victims and, as an unintended side-effect, cutting down the amount of time they were able to spend on sawing through the door locks. And it was, slowly but inexorably, breaking them all.

Except perhaps for Teal'c. "That is an alarm bell," the Jaffa stated, his voice calm and steady. "I believe that this facility is under attack."

Jack felt his lips curling into a feral smile, the first spontaneous one he had managed in days, and his hands curling equally spontaneously into fists. "We were due a break. Okay, this is it, people. Time to make our move." He went to the cell door, grabbed the bars, and thrust hard. The door opened inward but there was enough play in the hinges to let him slam the lock hasp hard against its socket. It didn't snap but he felt the sawn-through metal give slightly. "Carter, how far through the lock are you?"

"Only about quarter of the way," Sam reported. "The saw's worn away almost to nothing. It's hardly cutting at all now."

"Damn," Jack said, although he wasn't surprised. He pulled the door back with all his strength, feeling the hasp bending in the other direction, and then gave the door another forward shove. "Looks like it's just you and me, Teal'c."

"Indeed," Teal'c replied. "We must retrieve…" He broke off mid-sentence as the cell block door swung open.

Jack felt a stab of fear as Vhonna entered. A conditioned reaction, probably inevitable after the amount of pain she'd put him through, but he hated to be responding like one of Pavlov's dogs. So, turn it around. _Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to_… an adrenalin surge that could be used. It was fight or flight time and flight wasn't an option.

Usually Vhonna made her entrances at a leisurely pace, taking long strides and moving from the hips, relishing the impression she was making. Jack wasn't sure what exactly constituted a 'sashay', except in the context of a dance, but it was the word that came to mind to describe her progress. Not this time. She was taking short, quick, steps, her lips were set in a tight line, and she looked somewhat disheveled. Her ever-present minotaur henchman, bodyguard, or whatever was at her side and he had…

…an erection that wouldn't have been out of place in the Sequoia National Park. Had Vhonna actually been screwing the monster? Impossible for any normal woman, surely, but maybe not for the Queen of Pain.

"Listen to me, people of Earth," she addressed them as she approached. A wizard and a dwarf came into view behind the minotaur's bulk. The dwarf was carrying a P-90. "It seems that some enemy is assaulting this place. I doubt if they'll get this far, although Kenadi did, but Maugrim wishes to take no chances. He has left standing orders that in these circumstances I'm to kill you. First, though, you get one last chance. Accept the geas binding you to Maugrim's service or die." She gestured in the direction of the dwarf. "You can provide us with some practice with your weapons in the process."

Jack stared at the wizard. He was pretty sure that he'd seen the guy before, during the fight in which SG-1 had been captured, and he had put several bullets through the wizard's chest. "Doesn't anyone stay dead around here?" he complained.

"You will, stranger," the wizard replied. "I shall make certain of it." That meant he was wearing one of the translation amulets. Jack made a mental note to be sure to retrieve it after he killed the guy – again.

The minotaur uttered a series of guttural grunts that were meaningless to Jack. The creature's attention seemed to be focused on Sam.

Vhonna laughed. "Very well," she said, "as long as you hurry. And make sure that she doesn't survive." She looked at Jack. "You have ten seconds to agree to the geas otherwise your tall blonde friend is going to be raped to death."

Jack felt his lips contorting into a snarl without his conscious mind being involved at all. "I'm going to kill you, bitch," he growled.

"No," Vhonna said, "I'm going to kill you. I take it your answer is no? Daniel Jackson, Teal'c, what about you? Samantha, you can spare yourself a very ugly death just by agreeing."

"If it means I don't have to listen to you any longer, then death will be a welcome release," Sam said.

Vhonna shrugged. "It's your fucking funeral. Did that pun work in translation, I wonder? Okay, Magluth, do it. And hurry up." She tossed a key to the minotaur, who fumbled the catch and had to bend down to retrieve it from the floor, and turned her attention to the dwarf. "Wait until Magluth gets started before you kill them. Just in case they change their minds."

Jack seized the bars of the cell door and tensed ready to move. He forced himself to wait until the minotaur had unlocked Sam's cell, even though all his instincts screamed at him to act to protect her, and then he heaved with everything he had.

For one terrible instant he thought that he hadn't cut deeply enough through the hasp, and that it wasn't going to break, but then it gave way and the door came open. He dived through the opening and attacked.

The dwarf cursed and fumbled at his belt for an axe; presumably his ingrained combat reflexes made him go for the familiar weapon despite having a P-90 in his hands. Jack ignored him and launched himself at Vhonna.

His right hand found her throat and locked on. He hammered at her with his left, punching her in the mouth, smashing an elbow into her jaw, and then going for her eyes with his fingers as he drove her back across the corridor and slammed her into the door of Daniel's cell. She clawed at his clutching hand trying to free herself from his choking grip, punched at his face, tried to knee him in the groin, and thrust her body forward in an attempt to impale him with the three-inch needle-sharp spikes that protruded from her breast armor. She was strong for a woman, and fighting for her life, but Jack was oblivious to her blows. All that mattered was that she didn't get a chance to utter even a single syllable before she died – or to draw the Beretta that was tucked into her belt.

It took her far too long to think of the gun. By the time she began to grope for the weapon her face was already turning blue. Jack kept up the pressure on her throat, holding her up against the door, and used his other hand to grab her arm. Daniel seized Vhonna's hair and jerked hard, bringing the back of her skull into violent contact with the iron cell bars, and then reached out through the bars and grabbed for her throat.

Vhonna was sagging in Jack's grip now, no longer struggling, and the arm with which she had tried to draw the gun had slipped from its butt and was hanging limp. Jack kept up the pressure remorselessly. She was probably unconscious, and might even be dying, but he couldn't afford to take any chances. Only when Daniel's hand was also firmly clamped on her throat did Jack dare to release his grip. He snatched the Beretta from Vhonna's belt and spun around.

At last he had a chance to see how the others had managed during his struggle with Vhonna. Teal'c had broken free of his cell, as Jack had expected, and had put both the dwarf and the wizard out of action. Jack was just in time to see Teal'c snapping the wizard's neck.

The dwarf was on the ground, crawling on hands and knees, apparently dazed. His axe was nowhere in sight but the P-90 lay near at hand and he was heading right for it. Jack kicked him in the head, forgetting that his boots had been taken away during a torture session and not returned, and winced as the impact hurt him more than the dwarf.

"The hell with this," Jack growled. He aimed the Beretta and pulled the trigger. The sound of the shot, in the windowless chamber, was shockingly loud. The dwarf jerked once and then collapsed face down. A pool of blood began to spread out from under his head.

Jack turned to face Sam's cell. Now that the immediate threats of Vhonna's lethal 'spells' and the dwarf's P-90 had been removed he was free to feel fear on Sam's behalf. How had she fared against the minotaur? She hadn't screamed…

Actually if anyone was going to scream it probably would be the minotaur. Jack was just in time to see Sam, her hands pinioned in the grasp of the monster's huge hands, lash up with her foot. Her aim was true. The minotaur uttered something between a bellow and a shriek and doubled over. Jack winced in involuntary male sympathy even as he raised the Beretta and looked for a clear shot.

Teal'c beat him to it. The big Jaffa, for once looking almost small compared with the immense bulk of the minotaur, hurtled to Sam's aid and seized the beast from behind. He tugged it away from Sam, who used the distraction to free herself from its hold, and into the corridor. Teal'c swung the minotaur around and propelled it toward the cell holding Daelan. It crashed into the barred door, face first, with an impact that seemed to shake the whole prison.

Daelan was ready. His hands clamped on the minotaur's horns. He pulled with all his strength, forcing the monster's head down, and held it in place against the door. Teal'c took advantage of the free target and delivered an elbow strike to the minotaur's spine that would probably have killed or paralyzed a human. The massive beast didn't even seem to notice. It bellowed once more, now with a note of rage rather than pain, and reached for Daelan through the bars.

Jack couldn't get a clear view of the action, obscured as it was by Teal'c and the minotaur's own bulk, but it was immediately obvious that the minotaur had made a big mistake. The 'crack' as Daelan took his revenge for his broken arms, and the minotaur's howl of agony, told the story as plainly as if Jack had a ringside seat.

Teal'c hit the minotaur twice more. He was hurting it, Jack could tell, but beating a creature that size to death with nothing but bare hands was going to be a long, laborious, process. The minotaur's neck was thicker than a man's thigh and breaking it would be a mighty task even for Teal'c. Jack began to raise the Beretta but then reconsidered, as it could well take several of their limited stock of pistol bullets to put the minotaur down permanently, and went to where the P-90 lay.

He decocked the pistol, stuck it in his waistband, and scooped up the P-90. He gave it a quick examination, making sure that it was loaded and that no-one had done anything dumb like blocking up the barrel while it was out of SG-1's hands, and then raised it to the aim. Sam was one step ahead of him. She retrieved the dwarf's axe from the floor and passed it to Teal'c.

"Thank you, Major Carter," Teal'c said. "This will prove sufficiently lethal and conserve our ammunition." He whirled the weapon and brought the blade down to bite deep into the back of the minotaur's neck.

"Messy, but effective," Jack commented as the minotaur slid down the door until it was held up only by Daelan's grip on its broken arm. He turned back to Vhonna, who was hanging just as limply from Daniel's strangling hands, and hammered the butt of the P-90 into her forehead. Her head snapped back and crashed into the steel bars. It felt to Jack as if her skull had cracked under the impact but he took no chances and hit her again. This time he was certain. The look on Daniel's face was the clincher.

"Jack," Daniel complained, pouting and wrinkling his nose, "did you have to do that?"

"Yes," Jack said. "I won't really be happy until I've seen her cremated, and her ashes scattered on the surface of Netu, but smashing her skull works for now." He lowered the P-90. "I think you can let her go, Daniel."

Daniel obeyed. Vhonna pitched forward and sprawled on the floor. There was a visible depression, oozing blood, in the back of her skull. "Get me out of here, Jack," Daniel requested.

"Right away," Jack promised. "Carter, the key's in your door. Okay, people, let's grab the translation devices and get out of this place." As he was speaking a movement at the end of the corridor caught his eye. A face was looking in through the barred grille of the cell-block door. "Crap," Jack growled. It was gone before he could bring the P-90 to his shoulder. The disappearance of the face was followed by a noise that sounded ominously like that of massive bolts being slammed home.

Jack raced along the corridor and tried the door. It didn't move. "Crap," he said again, and he took a quick peek through the grille. He saw a dwarf bringing a crossbow to the aim and snatched his head aside just in time to avoid the bolt. It whizzed past him and buried itself in the ceiling. Jack brought up the P-90 and fired a short burst. The dwarf dropped his crossbow, fell to his knees, and then slowly toppled over and lay face down on the floor.

Jack scanned for other targets. The dwarf couldn't have been the owner of the face he'd glimpsed through the grille; it was positioned fairly high in the door and even on tip-toe the dwarf couldn't have looked through it. It hadn't been a minotaur, he was pretty sure Maugrim or the girl with the big sword – and the armor designed for a previously unknown medieval franchise of Hooters – would have done more than just bolt the door and run, and he would have recognized Lady Cold Circle, so there had to be someone else – probably another freakin' wizard.

There was no-one in sight, at least as far as he could see through the grille's restricted field of vision, but he saw a door closing on the far side of the room. He guessed it would be someone going for reinforcements, or to put on armor, or – maybe the worst case scenario – going to collect the other P-90s to use against SG-1. Sure, the cell walls would provide plenty of cover, and he had no doubt that SG-1 would win any firefight against primitives who'd figured out how to fire an automatic weapon by trial and error, but the opposition might get lucky. Also Jack didn't know a whole lot about 'Sword and Sorcery' worlds but one thing he had learned, from various bad movies, was that any self-respecting wizard sooner or later ended up shooting honking great fireballs out of his hands.

"Stand aside, O'Neill," Teal'c said from behind him. Jack turned his head and saw that Teal'c was holding the axe. Its blade was smeared with blood. "I shall endeavor to break open the door."

Jack shook his head. "It's three inches thick, T, and made of something like seasoned oak studded with iron," he pointed out. "Chopping through it would take forever, even for you and the big guy. Luckily, though," he went on, a grin coming to his lips, "I just happen to have some C4." He ejected a round from the P-90, caught it, and held it up. "And now we have something to use as a detonator."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

"Did she have to use my watch?" Daniel complained, frowning at Sam and pouting slightly.

"It's what we have," Jack answered. "It's just your bad luck that the late unlamented Queen of Pain chose your watch as the perfect accessory to go with her bondage outfit."

"It's a nice simple black," Daniel said, "with a clear easy-to-read face."

"I could either use your watch or MacGyver a fuse out of straw and the powder from the cartridge," Sam pointed out. "I know which one I'd prefer." She fell silent and touched her tongue to her top lip as she concentrated on her task.

"You can get yourself a new watch when we get home," Jack said. "First we have to get past this door."

"I know, I know," Daniel said. "It's just the tension getting to me."

"Finished, sir," Sam reported. "I've rigged it for twenty seconds delay. Just say the word."

Jack looked at Daelan, who had been stripping the dead of jewelry and weapons, and raised an eyebrow. "You got everything you need, big guy?" he asked. It still seemed ghoulish to Jack but, now that he had experience of the gadgetry, or magic, contained in the rings and necklaces he could appreciate the practicality of the custom. The translation amulets alone would make their escape and trip back to the Stargate immeasurably easier.

"I have," Daelan replied, perfectly understandably now that Jack was wearing a translation amulet. "Unfortunately identifying magic items is not a skill I possess. If Kenadi…" He broke off and swallowed hard. "At least we have an axe, some knives, and your weapons. Major Carter should wear the armor that belonged to that vile creature Vhonna. No High Priestess would wear leather armor that was not powerfully enchanted."

Sam's nose wrinkled up and her lips turned down. "It wouldn't fit me," she pointed out. "She's a couple of inches shorter than me and a lot, well, curvier."

"It will be enchanted to change its size to fit the wearer," Daelan assured her. "Do you not have such enchantments in your world?"

There was a frown of concentration on Daniel's face. They had recovered three translation amulets from the bodies and it had been logical for them to go to Jack, Sam, and Teal'c. Daniel could speak the local language, at least to some extent, and so he had been the one to go without. "That is tidy trick," he said, "make many thing easy."

Jack cocked his head to one side. "Are you feeling okay, Daniel?" he asked. "That didn't sound like you at all."

"I was speaking the local lingo, Jack," Daniel said. "You must be hearing what I'm really saying and not what I think I'm saying. How bad was it?"

"Pretty bad," Jack told him, "but understandable, I guess. So, shrink-to-fit armor? Cool."

"I'm still not wearing it, sir," Sam said. "If Maugrim's enemies are attacking this place then dressing up like his pet torturer, when we'll have to get out past them, wouldn't be a good idea."

"Yeah, it wouldn't make friends and influence people," Jack agreed. "Anyone who's ever met Vhonna would try to kill you on sight. That's a big drawback."

"It's bad enough that I'm wearing one of Lady Cold Circle's gowns," Sam continued, "but no way am I going to fight naked."

"Uhh, yeah, right," Jack said, his eyes losing focus for a moment. "Okay, I think we're ready to go."

"Not quite," Daelan said. "The axe, please."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow and handed the barbarian the dwarf's axe. "What is your purpose?" he asked.

"I merely wish to ensure that this… filth… stays dead for all time," Daelan replied. He lifted the axe over Vhonna's neck and brought it down with all his strength.

Daniel's face acquired a distinctly greenish tinge and he turned his head away. Sam winced.

Jack nodded slowly. "With what I've seen around here lately, I'd have to call that a sensible precaution," he said. "Okay, back to where we were. Carter, get ready to start the countdown. Everybody take cover. In twenty seconds that door will be history."

Daelan's bushy brows descended low over his eyes. "History? I don't understand. Is there perhaps something wrong with those amulets?"

"Hmm," said Jack, as he ducked into one of the cells, "Maybe this time I won't shout 'Fire in the hole!'."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

"Okay," Jack said, "I think we've cleared out the last of them." He stepped over the body of a minotaur, dead with three bullets through its head, and went to the desk at which Maugrim had sat. "All we need to do now is find our other weapons and find a way out of here. We look to be pretty high up, from what I can see out of the windows, and I haven't noticed any sign of any stairs."

"We are on the seventh floor, Colonel O'Neill," Daelan informed him. "Travel up and down is by a portal. It is activated by magical portal stones."

"It sounds a little like a ring transporter, sir," Sam commented.

"Right," Jack said. "What do these portal stones look like?"

"Like this," Daelan said, holding up a grayish object, about the size and shape of a computer mouse, with two green gemstones set in it as if they were on/off buttons. "I retrieved it from the body of the evil priestess."

"That's good," Jack said. "Hmm. That reminds me. Something else we need to find is a GDO, or at least a radio, otherwise the trip home is going to have to go the long way round."

"They'd be useless to Maugrim's people," Sam said. "They won't even know what they are, so they should be around here somewhere, along with the rest of our gear."

"This seems as good a place to start searching as any," Jack said. He moved behind Maugrim's desk and pulled out a drawer. A steel blade shot out from the desk and Jack avoided it only with a rapid leap sideways. "What the hell?" Jack exclaimed.

"The wealthy and the powerful often have traps on their possessions to deter thieves," Daelan explained. "Is it not so in your land?"

"Not in such an up-close and personal fashion, no," Jack said. "Mainly they just have alarms that send signals to the cops, uh, the City Watch I guess you'd call them. This kind of thing isn't legal back home. It's going to make looking for our gear a little more hazardous than I'd expected."

"Alas, I am not skilled in detecting and disarming traps," Daelan said. "Our colleague Tomi Undergallows dealt with such things, and he passed on his skills to Kenadi, but I am too big and lack the dexterity to master the art. I am, however, quite good at jumping out of the way."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that," Jack said. "Carter, you're not bad at detecting Goa'uld booby traps. Do you think your skills would be transferable to spotting the low-tech stuff?"

"I think so, sir," Sam said. "I'll be careful." She went to the other side of the desk and began examining the drawer there.

Jack checked the contents of the draw he had pulled out. "Well, we're part of the way there," he said. "One GDO and one radio. All we need now is enough weaponry to fight our way back to the Gate, and someone who can help us figure out what those weird symbols mean."

"We have swords and axes enough for us all now," Daelan said, "and crossbows."

Jack shook his head. "That's fine for you, and Teal'c, but I'd just get my ass handed to me if I tried taking on the locals with a sword," he said. "I've got twenty-seven rounds left for my P-90, and Daniel has eight in the Beretta, but when they're gone the guns are just expensive clubs."

"I can use a sword," Daniel reminded him.

Jack rolled his eyes. "You collect swords, Daniel," he said, "and play around with them. The people here use them for real every day. Have you ever seen anyone handle a sword the way Kenadi did? Or the girl who…" His voice trailed away as he saw Daelan's expression.

"I guess you're right," Daniel said, "but I'll take a sword anyway."

"I shall use this staff," Teal'c said, brandishing a quarterstaff, "until I can recover my own weapon."

"I'll stick to knives," Sam said, "but I'll feel better when we can – what was that?"

A noise had come from the next room. "Sounded like a ring transporter," Jack said, "only without as many 'whoomph' sounds." He brought his P-90 to the ready. "I guess it's the… portal. We should have left a guard." He was moving as he spoke.

"Our numbers are too few for us to split our forces," Teal'c said, following at Jack's heels. The conversation ended as they entered the room from which the sound had come.

It was a large hall paved with marble slabs, with a raised hexagonal stone platform in the centre, a golden circle patterned with a stylized star marked out in the middle of the hexagon. With hindsight it was obvious that was the location for the portal but, as Jack hadn't even known there was such a thing until Daelan spoke up, he wasn't going to kick himself for overlooking it.

Three people were on the platform, obviously having just entered through the portal, and they had weapons in their hands. One looked like an eight-year-old boy in fancy dress costume as a guy out of some Sword-and-Sorcery movie, brown leather and strips of fur and a camouflage-patterned cape, but the fifteen-inch dagger or short sword in his hand was definitely for real. Another was a strikingly good-looking woman with flame-red hair, clad in black pants and a black leather jerkin, and she was holding a staff tipped with a sword blade at each end and, incongruously, a guitar. The third was a tall woman with jet black skin and snow-white hair. Jack had seen her before.

"Cierre," he said, aiming his P-90 at her face. "I thought you were dead."

She was holding a bow, an arrow nocked to its string, but she lowered it and gave Jack a cold smile that did not reach her eyes. "I survived," she said, "no thanks to Maugrim. I came to rescue you."

Jack's eyes widened. "That's…" he began, but was interrupted.

"Liar! Murderer!" Daelan roared. He raised his axe and charged.

"Daelan! Wait!" Jack yelled. Daelan ignored him.

Cierre made no move to raise her bow, nor to draw the hand-axe hanging at her belt, or the twin swords whose hilts could be seen rising from behind her shoulders. She stood passively as the barbarian rushed toward her.

The red-head tossed aside her odd sword-bladed staff and lifted her guitar. She struck a note and began to sing. "_Stop! In the name of love_," she commanded. Daelan's charge halted as if he had struck an invisible brick wall. "_Before you break my heart, think it over_."

Jack blinked. "What the hell?" he muttered.

"What are you doing, Sharwyn?" Daelan growled. "Do you defend her? Know you not that she killed Kenadi?"

"It's not that simple," the woman, presumably Sharwyn, said. "Hear her out, Daelan."

"Yeah, big guy," the apparent child said. He wasn't a dwarf, as he was bare-faced, but his voice was that of an adult. And he had pointy ears. He reminded Jack of one of Santa's elves; except, of course, for the dagger. "We wouldn't have made it here if not for her."

Daelan slowly lowered his axe and stood unmoving. "Speak, then, Drow," he said, still in a low rage-filled growl.

"Yes, I killed your friend," Cierre said, "but because I was tricked with lies. Maugrim told me that she, and you, were hunting down and slaying priestesses of Auril without cause. I believed him, for it is well known that the worshippers of my goddess are persecuted in Neverwinter, and only when she struck to render me unconscious and not to kill did I question what I had been told. Too late for me to stay my hand, alas, but it was enough to distract me so that she was able to strike back before she fell. Then Maugrim left me to die." Her lips curled back in a snarl. "For that I will cut off his manhood and feed it to him until he chokes."

Jack winced. "So, you're here to rescue us?" he said. "How come?" He frowned. "And, for that matter, how come you're not dead?"

"There were potions of healing in Kenadi Nefret's belt pouch," Cierre explained. "I was able to reach them, with the last of my strength, and they kept me alive."

Jack heard Sam muttering behind him. "Heal… po…" she quoted. Jack vaguely remembered hearing those syllables coming from Kenadi's mouth as she was dying and suddenly realized what she had been trying to say. "Oh, no," Sam went on. "If I'd only known…" She stopped speaking and Jack heard her footsteps going away. He glanced back over his shoulder and saw Sam retreating into Maugrim's office. Daniel was nowhere in sight, and Jack guessed that he, too, had gone back there, presumably to complete their search.

"I vowed, then," Cierre continued, "that I would avenge the death of one who was never truly my enemy. I shall carry out her dying wishes, or die in the attempt, for I owe her a debt of blood."

"Dying wishes?" Jack queried.

"Save Neverwinter," Cierre quoted, "Kill Maugrim." That half-smile, involving only her lips and failing to reach her eyes, returned. "Rescuing you was not mentioned but I felt it appropriate. If your weapons are truly as deadly as Kenadi claimed then you may be of great assistance in the remainder of my mission."

"We'd be happy to help," Jack said, "especially as we've spent the past ten days being tortured by his resident psycho-in-chief, but we're a little short on the weaponry front. We've recovered two of our guns – these things," he explained, holding up the P-90, "but Maugrim has the others and I think his people have figured out how to use them. Maybe they're still somewhere in this place but, if they're not, we have a problem."

"We shall search for them before we leave, then," said Sharwyn.

"We must not take too long," Cierre said, "for the Luskans will come to retake this place soon."

"I think that we must take the risk," Sharwyn said.

"Agreed," Cierre replied.

"I do not trust you, dark one," Daelan rumbled. "No Drow can be trusted."

Cierre raised an eyebrow. "Drizzt Do'Urden," she said. "Viconia De'Vir. Qilué Veladorn. Liriel Baenre." Jack frowned, pursed his lips, and tapped the amulet at his neck. For a moment he was convinced that the translation device was malfunctioning, or had a time-limited effect in the same way that the 'spell' cast by Kenadi had eventually expired, until he realized that Cierre was reciting a list of names.

"You class yourself with those heroes?" Daelan challenged.

Cierre shook her head. "No, I make no claim to being a hero of any kind. I am merely very good at killing people and I intend to kill Maugrim. Assist me or not, as you wish, but if you hinder me you aid the man who is truly responsible for the death of your friend."

"She's already recovered two of the Words of Power," the miniature man said. "Bloody brilliant fighter she is, even better than Kenadi, and she doesn't stop for anything. By all the gods, you should have seen her killing the bloody dragon!"

"Dragon?" Jack echoed. No-one took any notice and the discussion continued as if he hadn't spoken.

"Kenadi was my best friend, you know that," Sharwyn added, "but I do not hold her death against Cierre. Work with her to slay Maugrim. For my sake, Daelan, please."

Daelan's shoulders slumped. "Very well," he agreed, sounding as if the words were being dragged from him against his will. "I will tolerate her – at least until Maugrim is slain."

"I too once did evil deeds in the service of one who was false," Teal'c put in, "until I took heed of the words of O'Neill and changed my allegiance. I will be happy to fight alongside this warrior maid who is in similar circumstances." He inclined his head slightly toward Cierre.

"Thank you," Cierre replied. Her smile, although brief, almost reached her eyes this time. "Let us waste no more time," she said. "I had planned for us to leave immediately but it seems that we must search this place first. We came directly to this floor, for I knew this was the most likely place in which the prisoners could be found, but we will have to descend floor by floor searching as we go. There may well be foes yet unfought between us and the exit."

"I have fought through this place before," Daelan said, "and I will do so again. The floors shall run red with the blood of Maugrim's minions."

"We've found another Beretta," Daniel said, re-entering the room from behind Jack, "and two full magazines."

"Good news, sir, we found our boots," Sam added. "Also another radio, a compass, and two tactical vests but that's all. We checked out the office and the…" she hesitated and bit on her top lip, "torture chamber. There's nothing more to find."

"My staff weapon?" Teal'c asked.

"No sign of it, Teal'c," Sam replied, "and no zat either. Sorry."

"That's a bloody small gun," the diminutive man remarked. "Nothing like the ones the gnomes in Lantan use. Wouldn't let any of the little buggers see that if I were you, mate, they'll have it in bits, trying to work out how it's made, before you can say 'Gond's titanium testicles'."

"Guns," Sharwyn mused. "_Load up on guns, bring your friends_. Now I understand."

"Well, I don't," Jack said. "Just where did you hear Nirvana? And how the hell did you do that thing where you stopped Daelan in his tracks with an old Supremes' song?"

"It's a long story," Sharwyn said, "and there is no time for it now." She smiled, for the first time since she had arrived through the portal, and Jack was struck by her quite remarkable beauty. "If we leave this tower alive, and make it out of the city, then I shall tell you." She scooped up her sword-staff weapon and pointed with it at the circle that marked out the portal. "For the moment," she said, her smile growing broader, "come with me if you want to live."


	4. Promises I Cannot Keep

A/N: _Forgotten Realms_ aficionados will notice some differences from the canon descriptions of the Faerûnian gods in this chapter. This is because of changes that have taken place due to events in my other story '_Tabula Avatar_'. I'm leaving them unexplained in this story, because Jack and SG-1 have no way of knowing about them, but they'll become clear as '_Tabula Avatar_' progresses.

**Chapter Four**

**Promises I Cannot Keep**

"What are we doing up here?" Jack asked. "I thought we'd be heading for the way out." They had emerged from the transporter portal into the open air at the top of the tower. An extremely high tower; not Sears Tower tall but, Jack would judge from the size of objects on the ground far below, around the height of the Chicago Temple Building or maybe even the Chicago Board of Trade Building. Something not far short of six hundred feet. He could see four lesser towers to the sides, a hundred feet or so lower, that seemed to be part of the same central building as the tower on which he stood.

"This is where Maugrim's personal chambers are," Sharwyn explained, "and it may be that your stolen weapons are within. Probably not, as he's likely to have taken them to the battlefront by now, but I think we have to check."

"Yeah, good thinking, seeing as how we're in the neighborhood," Jack agreed. His lips curled back. "And if Maugrim happens to be home then I'll toss him over the edge."

Daelan shook his head. "That would be futile, Colonel O'Neill," he said. "The wizard will be able to fly, or to fall gently like a feather, and you would merely be helping him escape." The massive barbarian hefted his axe. "I shall cut off his head."

Jack nodded. "Yeah, I can go with that."

"He is no wizard," Cierre put in, almost spitting the words out. "That is just another of his lies."

"He looks like a wizard," Jack said, "and he acts like a wizard, and isn't this place the headquarters of the wizards round here? If he isn't a wizard how come he got to be in charge?"

"He may well have been a wizard once," Sharwyn said, "and I suspect that he retains some arcane ability, but really he's a priest. He fakes it with rings, wands, and clerical magic."

"His gear must be worth a fortune," the diminutive Tomi put in. "If we can kill him and nick the lot we'll be set up for life." He moved off, ahead of the others, walking on silent feet. His dagger gleamed in his hand. Cierre followed him.

"How do you know the others aren't faking it too?" Sam asked. "I mean… wizards, magic… it's all a little… unbelievable."

Sharwyn's eyebrows rose. "You don't believe in arcane magic? Giles said it was rare in his world, and that many don't know about it, but Willow's one of the most powerful mages I know; perhaps on a par with Khelben Blackstaff. Surely skilled warriors like you, who travel between worlds, cannot be unaware of the Art?"

"In my experience it's all done with technology," Sam said. "When someone talks about magic it usually means they're pulling a scam to fool the unsophisticated populace."

Sharwyn shrugged. "Well, I could strip naked, set aside my guitar, remove my rings, and turn you into a frog," she said, "but it's too cold, Daelan would probably die of embarrassment, and I don't have Polymorph Other memorized anyway. Just take my word for it. Thinking it's all trickery might get you killed."

Jack's train of thought was totally derailed by the mention of Sharwyn stripping naked. He forced himself to concentrate on the down side, which was Sam being turned into a frog, and managed to get himself back on track.

"Those people you mentioned, Giles and, uh, Willow," he said, "they're from Earth, right?"

"That is correct," Sharwyn said. "They were transported to Faerûn, by some unknown means, more than two years ago and they never managed to get back home."

Jack pursed his lips. "I could do with talking to them," he said.

"I doubt if that will be possible," Sharwyn said. "I last saw them in Waterdeep, some three hundred miles south of here, and I don't know where they'll be now. I could ask a few travelling bards to circulate a message, I suppose, but it could be months before they get it."

"I guess it's not important," Jack said. "I wanted to find out how they got here but, if they don't know, there isn't really much point. Have you been to Earth yourself? You seem to know a whole lot about it. Like, The Supremes, and Nirvana, and the Terminator quote…"

"No, I've never been there," Sharwyn replied. "Giles taught me many of your songs – I was the second guitarist and backing vocalist in The Rupert Giles Experience for a while – and I have listened to the tales he, and his comrades, told of their homeland. That's all."

Tomi rejoined the group. "Doesn't look like Maugrim's home," he reported.

"A stone golem guarded the chambers when Kenadi and I were here before," Daelan warned. "We smashed it but it may have been replaced."

"Nah, there's a couple of human guards in there now," Tomi said. "Blokes in full plate, I reckon, but they shouldn't be too much trouble."

Jack raised his P-90. "No shit," he said.

"Stay your hand," Sharwyn said. "If your guns are at all like those of the Lantanese then they require smoke-powder and bullets. I suspect that you do not have an unlimited supply."

"That's right," Jack confirmed. "I'm hoping we'll find the other ammo packs but, right now, we're a little short."

"Then conserve your stocks for when they are most needed," Sharwyn advised. "Maugrim's forces are not so strong that he could afford to allocate to mere guard duty two warriors who could stand against Cierre."

"That is logical," Teal'c agreed. "She is undoubtedly a formidable warrior."

"Okay," Jack said, "I'll save my ammo for something tougher." He lowered the P-90 but kept it in a position from which it could be quickly brought to the aim.

Cierre was waiting for them, at the bottom of a short flight of steps, facing a closed wooden door. She had put away her bow and now held a sword in her right hand and a hand-axe in her left. She had killed Kenadi with a sword that glowed green; the one she now wielded gave off a flickering red light that resembled flames. The blade of her hand-axe shone pale blue.

She stood aside from the door to make way for Tomi. The tiny man threw open the door for her and Cierre went through in a blur of motion. Jack couldn't see the action but he heard the clash of steel on steel, a couple of thudding noises that sounded horribly reminiscent of the sound Vhonna's skull had made when he smashed it against the cell bars, and then a scream that quickly died away into a gurgle.

Cierre emerged from the door a moment later and sheathed her weapons. "Clear," she announced, and went back into the room with Tomi at her heels. The rest of the group followed.

Jack could smell burnt flesh. It reminded him of when he left meat on the barbeque a little too long. Sometimes you'd get the same smell, although less noticeably, from a victim of a staff blast. It was coming from one of the two corpses that lay on the floor.

They had been wearing plate armor, as Tomi had predicted, looking like the kind of thing you'd see in an English museum. It hadn't done them any good at all. One of them had obviously taken an axe blow full in the face. The nasal guard on the man's helmet had failed to resist the blow and had been bent and driven deep into the ghastly wound. There was no visible injury on the other, the one who smelled of burnt meat, but what little blood could be seen was in the area below where the corpse's arm joined his body. It wasn't hard for Jack to work out what had happened. The guard had raised his weapon to strike and Cierre had thrust her sword into the vulnerable region under his uplifted arm. There should have been more blood from a wound like that, even though the guy's heart must have stopped almost instantly, and Jack put that together with the burnt meat smell and came to a conclusion.

"Hey, Cierre, is that an actual flaming sword?" he asked.

Cierre gave him another one of those tight little smiles that didn't reach her amber eyes. "It is," she confirmed. "Angurvadal, the Flametongue. I took it from the hoard of the red dragon Klauth."

"Sounds neat," Jack commented. "You killed an actual dragon? With wings, and breathing fire, and everything?"

"I did," Cierre said. Her trace of smile disappeared altogether and an edge came into her voice. "Do you doubt me?"

"They don't have dragons on their world, Cierre," Sharwyn put in.

"Oh?" Cierre's eyebrows, startlingly white against her jet-black skin, climbed high. "How strange."

"Books," Daniel announced, in a reverential tone.

Jack looked around and saw that the walls of the room were lined with bookshelves. "We don't have time for books, Daniel," he said. "We're looking for guns, ammo, detonators, our other gear, right?"

Daniel pouted. "There could be useful information in these books," he said.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Daniel…"

"Jack…" Daniel responded.

Teal'c brought the monosyllabic argument to an end. "I believe that I see some of our equipment," he announced, pointing at a desk on the far side of the room. The SG-1 members immediately headed that way only to be halted by Tomi.

"Hold it, mates," the little man cautioned them, "don't be so bloody eager to get yourselves killed. Wait until I've finished checking the place out for traps."

"Traps?" Jack raised his eyebrows. "As well as guards?"

"Of course," Tomi said. "The berk wouldn't trust minions like those blokes," he gestured toward the corpses, "not to nick his good stuff and bugger off to live like princes in Waterdeep. Now stand still and let me work. And leave the books alone," he added, as Daniel made for the shelves, "or, ten to one, something nasty will happen when you pull one out. Right?"

Daniel pouted but acquiesced.

"You are in better shape than I had feared," Sharwyn commented, as Tomi checked out the room. "I expected that we would find you half-starved, shackled, and bearing the scars of lash and hot irons."

"Oh, we had all those," Jack said, "but they put us back together again after every session of taking us apart." He heard Sam wince at his words.

"It was a most unpleasant experience," Teal'c agreed, "but we are, I believe, fully recovered."

"I regret that we could not get here earlier," Cierre said. "We could not make our move until the Luskan army moved out to attack Neverwinter."

"We did not expect anyone to come at all," Teal'c said, inclining his head in Cierre's direction, "and your arrival gave us the opportunity to make our escape. Thank you."

Tomi stepped away from the desk, a long slim metal probe in his hand, and nodded to Sharwyn. "That's all the mechanical traps out of the way," he reported, "but there's a Glyph of Warding still to do. Be a love and cast a Dispel, would you?"

"Sure thing." Sharwyn swung her guitar into position and her fingers glided over the strings. "_Now that the magic has gone_," she sang, very much in a Blues style, "_There's no sense in holding on, baby, now that the magic has gone_."

Tomi held a transparent crystal to his eye, stared at the desk through it, and nodded. "That's it sorted," he said. He pocketed the crystal and addressed the SG-1 members. "All clear over here. Help yourselves to your stuff but I get a share of any gold you find, right? I'll see to the bookshelves now."

Jack shot a glance at Sam and, as he had expected, saw that her brow was furrowed and her lips pursed in a dead giveaway that she was distinctly skeptical about Sharwyn's musical 'magic'. It hadn't been a very convincing display, with a magical trap that nobody could see being removed by a snatch of song, but Jack was prepared to give Sharwyn the benefit of the doubt. An invisible trap wasn't much of a stretch, after some of the other things they'd seen on this world, and whether the 'magic' was the real thing or voice-activated nano-technology wasn't important right now. What mattered was staying alive, getting back to the SGC, and, preferably, making sure that the guy who'd had them locked up and tortured ended up dead before they left. Sam didn't say anything, however, and Jack turned his attention to Maugrim's desk.

No P-90s, alas, and the only 5.7mm ammunition was the empty case of one round that obviously had been taken apart for study. Jack pocketed it anyway. Still no zat and no staff weapon. The detonators were there, and Jack still had enough C4 left to blow a few doors or make one fair-sized explosion, but there was no sign of the grenades. The good news was that the last of the missing Berettas was there, plus another two magazines, and that meant they could have a firearm each.

A pair of binoculars, which might come in handy. Sam's laptop. Their shavers; Jack didn't regard getting rid of his stubble as a priority but Teal'c seized a shaver and immediately began to remove the fuzz of hair from his head.

"I swore I would not grow my hair before the Jaffa are free," he said, noticing Jack's raised eyebrows. "This stubble, neither one thing the other, displeases me and I will tolerate it no longer."

"Hey, that gives me an idea," Sharwyn remarked. "Can you use a two-handed sword?" She used her foot to indicate such a sword, nearly six feet in length, dropped by one of the guards slain by Cierre.

Teal'c paused with the shaver at the crown of his head. "I am skilled with many weapons, but my proficiency with a sword is not as great as with a staff," he told her. "Why?"

"You bear a strong resemblance to the Rashemi warrior Minsc," Sharwyn replied. "He also keeps his head shaven. If you allowed me to draw a circle upon your face in the style of his tattoo, and wielded a greatsword, anyone who has heard the tales of Minsc would take you for him."

"And this would be to our advantage?"

"Oh, definitely," Sharwyn assured him. "I doubt if there are a dozen fighters in all of Faerûn who could stand before Minsc with a sword and hope to live – precious few, even, who could hope to prevail if they were ten to his one. You'd scare the shit out of the locals. If you yell his war-cry, 'Evil, meet my sword! Sword, meet Evil!', then most Luskan guards would take off running and not stop short of Icewind Dale."

"That would be an advantageous strategy," Teal'c agreed. "Very well, I shall perform this impersonation." He resumed his shaving.

Daniel spotted a box full of the translation amulets and grabbed one. "At last," he said, slipping it over his head. "Now I can talk properly instead of stumbling along in a kind of pidgin."

"Aw, I thought it was pretty amusing," Jack said.

"My apologies," Cierre said. "I have one in my pack and I did not think to offer it."

"It's okay," Daniel said, "I was getting by."

Jack directed a slightly puzzled glance at the girl. She wasn't wearing any kind of pack. Only the two swords, and her bow, hung at her back. She did, however, have a couple of pouches attached to her belt, and presumably that was what she meant. They were, just about, big enough to hold one of the amulets.

"Uh, Cierre," Sam said, "when we get to where you left your pack, would you have a spare pair of pants I could borrow? And maybe a shirt?" She put a hand to the skirts of the gown she wore. "This… garment isn't practical for fighting."

"It looks good on you, though, Carter," Jack put in, giving her a smile.

Sam responded with an eye-roll. "It's about two sizes too big around the… top, if you hadn't noticed, and the material is bunched up under my tactical vest. The important thing is that it hampers my legs. I nearly didn't manage to pull off that kick against the minotaur."

As Sam was speaking Cierre opened one of the pouches at her belt and took out what, at first sight, appeared to be a piece of thick sackcloth. She unfolded it, unfolded it again, and then a third time. It could now be seen to be a bag, flattened down, and obviously empty. She opened it up, reached inside, rummaged around for a moment and then pulled out a pair of black breeches. "I think these will fit you well," she said. "We are much the same size."

Sam's jaw dropped. Her mouth gaped so wide open that Jack wouldn't have bet against a Death Glider being able to fly into it. "How did you do that?"

Cierre's eyebrows rose slightly. "You do not have Bags of Holding on your world?"

"Bags of… Holding?" Sam managed to get her mouth closed, after speaking, but her eyebrows had climbed to an altitude that would be a challenge for anything short of an X-301.

"They contain a pocket of inter-dimensional space," Cierre explained, "so that the contents take up no space in this world. It is strange, when your devices are crafted with a skill that puts even the Drow to shame, that such a useful item is unfamiliar to you."

"Uh, yes," Sam said. "I guess our worlds have, uh, developed in different ways." She took the pants from Cierre, who delved into the bag again and produced first a black shirt, which she also handed to Sam, and then a pair of black leather forearm guards like those used by Medieval English longbowmen.

"These may be of use to you," Cierre said. "Bracers of Dexterity." She tapped one of the similar guards on her own forearms. "They were mine but I now possess superior ones."

"Bracers of… Dexterity?" Sam's eyebrows left the stratosphere far behind and soared into the mesosphere.

"They give the wearer greater dexterity and agility," Cierre explained. "Do you not have those either?"

"We had something similar," Sam said, her eyebrows descending. "The Atoniek armbands increased our speed and strength dramatically and heightened our senses. It all went horribly wrong." She omitted to mention, presumably out of planetary pride, that the armbands in question were the product of an extinct alien race, not of Earth, and they had been discovered and reactivated by the Tok'ra.

"It sounds as if your people tried to do too much in one step," Cierre said. "Boosting strength, speed, and sensory acuity, all in one device, would be a mighty task even for an Archmage. Better to wear Boots of Speed, a Girdle of Giant Strength, and a Thieves' Hood or a Watchman's Helm."

"I guess," Sam said. She accepted the shirt and, slightly hesitantly, the armbands. "Now I have to find somewhere to change."

"Change here, Carter," Jack said. "We'll go back outside for a while. We're finished here… aren't we, Daniel?"

Daniel was examining the books. "This is amazing," he said. "This translation amulet works for the written word as well as for speech. I can read these as if they were in English."

"Leave the books alone, Daniel," Jack said. "We just don't have time."

"But Jack…" Daniel protested.

"Leave them," Jack ordered. "Come on. Outside."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

The city didn't look medieval. Jack had been unconscious on arrival and had seen nothing of it before waking up in the prison cell. When they had first arrived on the tower pinnacle the city below had been too far away to make out details with the naked eye. His mental picture, however, had been of thatched roofs, crude walls made of 'wattle and daub' – whatever that was – with crooked beams, streets that were nothing but mud and open sewers, the whole Middle Ages thing that went with swords and bows and arrows. Now he scanned the area with his binoculars and saw a very different reality.

Houses of brick and stone, roofs clad with tiles, laid out in orderly rows along streets and sidewalks paved with rectangular stone slabs. Mansions standing in walled gardens. Elegant bridges, their roadways clear and open instead of cluttered with shops in the Medieval fashion, stretching across the river. A civic building, either a temple or a government office of some kind, with its entrance flanked by tall pillars in a style that reminded Jack of New York Public Library or the Federal Reserve Bank of Chicago. Except for the total absence of motor vehicles, and the presence of horses both as riding animals and as haulage for carts, it could have been a small European city in the early Nineties.

As long as that city was Sarajevo.

At least ten per cent of the buildings were burned-out shells. Several of the streets were blocked by barricades of furniture, sandbags, and overturned carts. Many of the surviving buildings had walls pock-marked with holes; caused by arrows, crossbow bolts, and the like, presumably, rather than by bullets, but the effect was the same. Every so often, as Jack scanned the city, he made out dead bodies lying in the streets or in the ruins of destroyed buildings. The few passers-by were all either heavily armed or in groups accompanied by armed men, no doubt escorts for the civilians, and no-one paid any attention to the corpses.

"I don't get it," Jack observed. "There's a freakin' civil war going on here. How come they're attacking Neverwinter at the same time? That doesn't make any kind of sense."

"The Arcane Brotherhood mages used to keep the five High Captains in check and prevent their rivalry escalating into conflict," Sharwyn explained. "Maugrim isn't interested in the city and when he took over he let the High Captains do what they liked. It didn't take long for open warfare to break out. Three of the Captains died or fled – nobody seems to know for sure – and Kurth and Baram battled for control. Kenadi killed both of them, and things apparently calmed down for a while, but when Maugrim ordered the army out to attack Neverwinter it all flared up again. Everyone who can muster a few henchmen is trying to grab a place as a new High Captain."

"And we have to get through that?"

"It shouldn't be too hard," Sharwyn said. "I can get us past any Umberlee worshippers without a fight. Most of the others should be scared off by Daelan, Cierre, and Teal'c impersonating Minsc. We'll only have problems if we bump into what's left of the City Guard. Cierre's pretty recognizable and, now that the Lords' Alliance has declared war on Luskan, she's an enemy combatant."

"But aren't you an enemy combatant too?"

Sharwyn shrugged. "Of course, but I'm not the only pretty redhead around. There's only one five foot nine drow." She turned away from Jack and looked out over the city. "Being up here makes me want to play," she commented. "Giles told me about bards in his world who played on rooftops…" She swung her guitar into position and strummed out a series of jangling chords. "_I want to run, I want to hide, I want to tear down the walls that hold me inside…_" she sang, and then stopped. "Hmm. I have an idea."

"More of this 'magic' using songs? Like, destroying the city walls by the power of U2?"

"Not exactly." Sharwyn sucked in her lips and half-closed her eyes. "I've thought of a song that might be able to get you and your companions back to your own world from here. It's not a great chance, as I know Giles tried the same thing and it didn't work, but theoretically it's possible." She bit on her bottom lip. "Although there's a possibility it would turn Major Carter into a man in the process…"

"Ah. That wouldn't be good." Jack swallowed hard. "Hey, are you talking about 'Get Back'?"

Sharwyn's face lit up in a smile. "I am. You know it?"

"I think pretty much everybody my age, back on Earth, knows it," Jack said. "I think we'll give it a miss. Even if you were sure it would work, well, I wouldn't be happy about leaving two P-90s, some grenades, and a staff weapon behind in the hands of a psycho. Our guns, our responsibility. Then there's the whole 'Sweet Samantha Carter thought she was a woman, but she was another man' thing. No, I think not."

"What was that you just said?" Sam's voice came from behind Jack and he turned. "Did you just call me 'sweet', sir?"

"I was quoting from a song," Jack explained. "Not that you aren't, uh, but, anything I say is going to be wrong, isn't it?"

"Probably, sir," Sam answered. 'Sweet' was definitely the wrong way to describe her right now. In the black shirt and pants, with her black tactical vest and the black leather wrist protectors, she somehow looked very much like a movie version of a Wild West gunfighter. "Are we ready to go now?"

"I'd like another look at those books," Daniel pleaded.

"Neverwinter has lots of books, too, right?" Jack said, shooting a glance at Sharwyn, who nodded. "And probably a lot fewer people who want to kill or torture us. Let's just get the hell out of here."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

Of course it wasn't that simple.

"Did you search the other floors on the way up to the prison?" Daelan asked Sharwyn.

The girl shook her head. "I felt that we could not take the time," she said. "We would have been too late, even without that delay, had you not freed yourselves."

"Then we should take a look at the fourth floor on our way out," Daelan said. "That was where the mages who dealt with mechanical things dwelt, when Kenadi and I were here before, and if Colonel O'Neill's weapons are still within this tower that is where they will be."

"What think you, Colonel O'Neill?" Sharwyn asked.

Jack shrugged. "Ten to one the guns will be with the army right now," he said. "It was a couple of days ago when the crazy priestess said they'd figured out how to use them. Still, I guess it can't hurt to take a look. She didn't mention Teal'c's staff weapon so there's a chance they're still tinkering with it. Getting that back would be a big plus."

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed.

"Very well," said Sharwyn, "we shall pause at the fourth floor." She held out a hand and Cierre passed her a 'wardstone'. "Inside the portal boundary, everyone!"

Jack noticed that Sharwyn seemed to have mislaid her weapon. "Hey," he pointed out, "you've left your staff-sword thing somewhere."

"No," Sharwyn replied, with a shake of her head that set her long braid of red hair swinging, "it's in my pocket."

Jack's jaw dropped so far and so fast that it probably reached the fourth floor before his feet.

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

They materialized on a hexagonal platform, in a tiled room unfurnished except for chandeliers, just like the one on the prison level. It was occupied and the natives weren't friendly.

Presumably they had been alerted by the alarm bells when Sharwyn and her colleagues broke into the tower. That had been a little over half an hour ago, Jack estimated, and it was pretty much impossible for guards to stay at instant readiness for that long when nothing was happening. Back at the SGC that was a problem, a vulnerability that could be exploited if aliens came in slow and quiet instead of with weapons blazing, but it had saved his life a few times on Goa'uld worlds and it looked like it might work out the same way here.

Four armor-clad warriors were leaning against the wall, swords and axes propped up beside them, and they hastily came erect and snatched up their weapons. Several other guys, wearing leather or chain-mail, grabbed for bows and arrows. A pair of dwarves slipped their arms through the straps of shields and took up their axes. A wizard was puffing on a pipe; he dropped it, coughed out a cloud of smoke, and started to chant.

Sam's right hand blurred and came up holding a Beretta. She brought it to the aim and gave the wizard a nine-millimeter double-tap in the face before Jack could get his P-90 pointed in the right direction. He raised an eyebrow – Sam had moved _fast_, as if her resemblance to a Wild West gunfighter went beyond the black clothes – and started to swing his gun to aim at one of the bowmen. Cierre took off from the platform in a flying leap, drawing sword and hand-axe in mid-air, and killed a man as she landed. Jack no longer had a clear shot and held his fire.

Daelan charged at a mail-clad warrior who had just taken hold of a double-ended axe, like the one Daelan had carried before his capture, and reached the man before he could get it into position. Daelan struck out with his axe, brushing aside a clumsy parry, and split the guard's skull. He left the axe stuck in his victim's head and seized the double-axe. He roared out his battle-cry "Rage of the Red Tiger!" as he whirled the weapon in a deadly arc and struck another foe dead.

Cierre chopped through a bowman's arm with her hand-axe, thrust her sword into his throat, and spun to face the dwarves. They were concentrating on Tomi, who was trying to dodge past them so that he could get behind the bowmen, and Cierre slew them in two swift strokes.

"Evil, meet my sword!" Teal'c declaimed, as instructed by Sharwyn, but his delivery was remarkably unconvincing. Hayden Christensen – even Steven Segal – couldn't have put it over with less feeling. The stroke he delivered with the two-handed sword, however, carried a conviction all of its own. Teal'c's blow dashed the sword from his opponent's hands and descended on the man's body with undiminished force. The chain mail gave way as if it had been knitted string sprayed with silver paint. Blood sprayed across the room as Teal'c pulled the blade free, splattering the floor just behind where Cierre was engaged in killing the dwarves, and Jack's eyes narrowed as he noticed something not right. Not all the blood reached the floor. Something had stopped it…

Jack aimed his P-90 and fired a short burst, apparently at nothing, but a cry of pain and a spray of blood confirmed that he'd hit his invisible target. Cierre started to spin round but she cried out and stumbled with the move incomplete. For a horrible second Jack thought that he'd caught her with one of the bullets but then the invisible man popped into sight. His left arm was a bloody mess, shattered and hanging limp, but his right arm held a short sword and it had blood on its blade. Then Cierre's sword blurred and swept up, under the man's armpit, and took the arm off at the shoulder. Simultaneously Jack fired one more shot and this time drilled the injured man straight through the temple. The severed arm landed on top of the corpse.

Daelan held his double-axe across his chest and used it to sweep two archers from their feet and send them crashing back into the wall. Before they could recover from the impacts the mighty barbarian delivered two quick blows with the blades and killed them both.

Teal'c clove open the head of a man-at-arms. The sword blade stuck for a moment and another soldier came at Teal'c with a broadsword. Teal'c delivered a stamping side-kick that felled his attacker, tugged his sword free, and brought it down on his fallen foe with lethal effect.

A couple of the archers managed to get clear of the fray and began to draw back their bows. Daniel shot one of them in the chest, twice, and put him down. The other archer cried out in agony as Tomi stabbed him in the lower back. The diminutive man might look like a child but letting him get behind you with that fifteen-inch dagger was obviously a fatal mistake.

Cierre slashed her sword across the throat of the last enemy still standing, looked around for more foes, and found none. She lowered her sword and axe, swayed, and then dropped to her knees. She fumbled her axe into its belt loop and reached behind her to her wound. "Fuck, it burns," she said. Her eyes rolled up and she fell on her face.

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

"Breath of the Maiden," Sharwyn said. She held the sword that had inflicted the wound upon Cierre and frowned. "The venom is rarely fatal but is debilitating in the extreme. I am sorry, Cierre, it was my fault. I did not think to use True Seeing."

Cierre gulped down a liquid from a glass vial and then tossed the empty vessel across the room. "Do not blame yourself, friend Sharwyn," she said. "Tomi has the gem, after all, and it would have seemed to me also that the spell would be a waste. The potions have healed me."

"You should have brought Linu," Daelan said to Sharwyn. "Her healing powers would have been far better than mere potions."

"She wouldn't work with Cierre," Sharwyn replied, "and that meant she was out."

"You chose this drow, the slayer of Kenadi, over our comrade Linu?" Daelan's incredulity was obvious.

"Well, duh," Sharwyn said, rolling her eyes. She'd obviously picked up mannerisms and expressions, as well as rock songs and movie quotes, from the Earth people she'd met. "Linu's a nice person, pleasant and kind, but she's a priestess of the Wicked Stepmother. I was never happy about working with her and I only did so because of Kenadi."

"The Wicked Stepmother?" Daniel queried. "I've been reading about your gods and that isn't one I've come across."

"Sehanine Moonbow, elven goddess of the moon," Sharwyn clarified. "Stepmother of Shar's fiancé Vhaeraun and her best friend Eilistraee. More importantly she is a close friend and ally of Selûne, the Betrayer, Shar's sworn foe." She continued at some length but Jack tuned her out. That sort of thing, gods and goddesses and all that myths and legends crap, was Daniel's field.

Instead Jack turned to Cierre. "You okay?" he asked.

"I am," Cierre replied, "thanks to you. Had you not spotted that rogue he would have wounded me far worse, perhaps fatally, and I owe you a debt." She smiled, a wide and genuine smile that involved her whole face, and stood up. "It is clear that your skill at arms does not merely depend upon your unusual weaponry. You are true warriors and I am proud to stand at your side."

"The torturer Vhonna was not the first to learn, to her cost, that O'Neill is by no means helpless without his weapons," Teal'c put in.

"I've had a lot of practice," Jack said. "You're pretty impressive yourself, Cierre."

"I, too, have had much…" Cierre began, but she broke off, her eyes widened, and she drew her spare sword as she saw something behind Jack.

Jack spun around, his gun coming up, and he saw a monster entering the room. About eight feet tall, looking a bit like a guy in a Godzilla suit but with the head of a vulture, and it had wings sprouting from its shoulders. Following close behind it came a beautiful girl, clad in a diaphanous baby-doll style garment, who also had wings.

"Vrock!" Sharwyn hissed. "And a succubus. Your guns might not harm them, Colonel, leave them to me." Instead of pulling out her sword-staff weapon she swung her guitar into position and played a very familiar riff. "_Get back_," she sang, "_Get back, get back to where you once belonged_."

The monster and the girl vanished. Jack shot a quick glance at Sam and saw that her eyebrows had climbed so high that they would need an oxygen mask and pressure suit. "Now that's something you don't see every day," he commented.

"There must be a wizard alive on this level still," Cierre said. She sheathed her green-bladed sword and picked up the one with the flaming blade, which she had dropped on the floor when she passed out, in its place. "I shall locate him and slay him."

"Not alone," Sharwyn said. "A couple of us should stay and guard the portal and the rest search this level."

"Sensible," Jack agreed.

"I shall stay," Daelan volunteered. A smile flickered briefly on his face. "I am well pleased, for this," he brandished the double-axe that he had taken from one of the fallen guards, "is my own axe, taken from me when we were captured."

"Thanks, Daelan. I'll keep an eye out for any of your other gear," Sharwyn promised. "One other of us should stand guard with you."

Teal'c, who was now wearing a steel cuirass taken from a dead guard who had almost matched him for size, spoke up. "I also shall guard this… portal against foes coming through to take us in the rear."

Jack heard Sam make an odd 'Mmmph' noise, glanced at her, and saw that her lips were clamped tight, her cheeks were puffed out, and she had gone cross-eyed. Sharwyn was looking at Sam, her eyebrows were raised, and she was grinning widely. Cierre, too, was grinning. After a couple of seconds all three girls' expressions went back to normal. 'Hmm,' Jack thought, 'women can be weird sometimes.'

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

The workbench top was scarred, pitted, and blackened. The stone floor beside it was chipped in places and stained in a pattern that looked to Jack like bloodstains that hadn't been completely scrubbed away. He saw a piece of metal on the floor in a corner of the room, went to it, and picked it up. "The lever from an M-67," he said, grinning slightly. "It looks as if they found out how not to handle a grenade."

"Not something you do twice," Sam agreed. She looked into a drawer, guaranteed free of traps by Tomi, and smiled. "Ammo," she said. "A whole load of 5.7-mil cartridges. I think they must have taken a mag apart and not been able to get it back together."

"Useful," Jack said. He slipped the sling of his P-90 from his shoulder. "I'll top this up. What else is there?"

Cierre tugged a ring from a dead wizard's finger, looked at it briefly, and passed it to Sharwyn. She released the corpse's hand and stood up. "I am going to change my torn cloak and shirt," she said, and left the room. Sharwyn followed.

"If you blokes can manage here," Tomi said, "there's some stuff in the next room that I want to check out."

"Sure thing," Jack said, and the little man departed. "If he's going to sneak a look at Cierre getting changed," Jack remarked, once Tomi had gone, "then he's a braver man that I am."

Sam ignored the comment. "Sir," she said, her voice lower than normal, "when I was alone with Cierre, when she lent me her clothes, I sensed naqadah. Just a little tingle. Not enough to be from a Goa'uld, not even as much as from Teal'c, but it was definitely there."

"Perhaps she's a former host," Daniel suggested, "like you."

"That's possible," Sam said, "but, in that case, how did she get to be 'former'? I don't think the Tok'ra have ever been here and no Goa'uld would give up a host like her voluntarily." She shook her head. "This place is weird. Half really primitive, half incredibly advanced. Bows and arrows, and swords and shields, on one hand, and on the other matter transmitters as elevators, and pocket dimensions as storage spaces." She paused in the middle of passing a handful of cartridges over to Jack. "I wonder… maybe they're the Furlings?"

"Now what makes you say that? Just because they have a few similarities to the Nox, along with a whole load of differences…" Jack grabbed the cartridges from Sam and began topping up his magazine.

"It makes sense, sir," Sam insisted. "Their civilization might have fallen thousands of years ago. Some of them Ascended, and are the gods now, and the others forgot about the basis for their technology and regard it as magic."

"A lot of things make sense but aren't actually true," Jack said, "such as the Earth being flat and the sun going around it."

"Actually a lot of easily observable phenomena can't be explained by a flat Earth," Daniel said, "and the Ancient Greeks knew the Earth was round. Eratosthenes of Cyrene calculated the circumference of the Earth fairly accurately in 270 BC…"

Jack gritted his teeth. "Daniel," he said.

"Oh. Anyway, it's a valid hypothesis," Daniel said. "It's possible that this is the planet of the Furlings. Although Loviatar and Mielikki were Earth gods, from the Finnish pantheon, and that might imply that they're Goa'uld, or Asgard…"

"You can theorize all you like when we're back at the SGC," Jack said, "and it might be worth talking to Cierre some more, but for now let's just concentrate on retrieving our weapons and getting the Hell out of here."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

They emerged from the portal on the first floor into a big empty room. Really empty, this time, entirely devoid of enemies. Tomi put his little gem to his eye, scanned the area, and announced it to be clear of invisible ambushers.

"That's a really neat gadget," Jack commented. "A lot more convenient than a TER."

"I'm not parting with it, mate," Tomi said. "Too bloody useful in my job. Of course," he added, as they entered the short corridor leading out of the room and the large entrance hall of the Host Tower came into view, "there are times when it's a bit pointless."

The hall contained a welcoming committee. Thirty or so people and a… honking big… robot. About twelve feet tall, roughly humanoid in shape, with forearms like concrete blocks flanked by enormous built-in shields. Its Robocop-style head rotated to face the new arrivals. "I don't believe this," Jack exclaimed. "It's a freakin' _Transformer_."

Most of the humans were standard man-at-arms types, clad in chain-mail or plate armor and wielding swords or halberds, but there were a couple of wizards and a trio of the women in white and blue who Jack now knew to be priestesses of Auril. There were also two people who Jack recognized.

One was the huge barbarian Jaevgrim, now wearing animal-hide armor instead of a chain-mail jerkin, grinning and brandishing his axe above his head. The other was Lady Cold Circle.

"Colonel O'Neill," she greeted. "Daniel."

"Hey, Melmyrna," Jack replied. "Good to see you. I'd like to hang around and talk but I have places to go, people to kill, you know how it is."

"Sorry, I can't let you do that," Lady Cold Circle said. She fixed her gaze on another of the group. "I am pleased to see that you are alive, Cierre."

"No thanks to you," Cierre responded.

"I have no wish to slay a valued servant of my goddess," Lady Cold Circle went on. "You may depart without hindrance."

"Fuck that," Cierre spat out. "I have a debt of blood to repay and I will not turn aside from my course. It is you who should depart. Return to the Winter Palace, and pray for Auril's forgiveness, for in serving Maugrim you are betraying the Frostmaiden."

Lady Cold Circle's helmet obscured her facial expressions but her surprise was evident in her voice. "What do you mean?"

"Lies!" Jaevgrim roared. "She seeks to sow dissension. Shut your vile mouth, freak."

"You waste your insults, male," Cierre said. "I've been called a freak for over a century and I'm used to it." Jack raised his eyebrows. He didn't understand what the barbarian meant by calling her a freak, as his impression was that Cierre's black skin and pointed ears were normal for her race, but it was the 'century' that really caught his attention. She looked to be in her early twenties and yet she might be even older than Teal'c. "I'm going to kill you anyway, for abandoning me to die when we were supposed to be partners," Cierre went on. "Insult me, or not, it makes no difference."

"He is mine," Daelan growled. "I was cheated of his head at our first meeting. I will not be cheated again."

"Hah! No, I will take your head, Red Tiger weakling," Jaevgrim taunted. "This time I wear your belt of strength and your enchanted armor. It is I who will prevail."

"I have the right to kill him," Cierre insisted.

"Oh, for cryin' out loud," Jack said, "we don't have time for this." He squeezed off a single shot and drilled Jaevgrim between the eyes.

Daelan glowered at Jack. "Now you have cheated me," he complained.

Cierre laughed. "A neat way to solve our dispute, Colonel O'Neill. I approve."

The reception committee had been thrown into confusion. One of the priestesses, who looked to be not much more than a teenager, had been splattered with Jaevgrim's blood and brains and she was screaming hysterically. Some of the men-at-arms had started to shuffle backward. None of them looked enthusiastic about the prospect of a battle. Jaevgrim's instant death, before he could even begin to raise his shield, had obviously shaken them even though they'd been prepared to face the mighty Daelan and the lethal Cierre.

"Shar, guide my hand," Sharwyn said softly, and she began to pick out a tune on her guitar, starting very quietly but growing louder. Jack felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He didn't recognize the song but it held a distinct note of menace and dread. The light in the room, emanating from glowing torches in brackets on the walls, gradually began to dim.

"_Fear of the dark, fear of the dark_," Sharwyn sang.  
"_You have a constant fear that something's always near  
Fear of the dark, fear of the dark  
You have a phobia that someone's always there_."

Suddenly she accelerated the tempo, striking the strings hard and blasting out an astonishing amount of sound for an acoustic instrument, and her voice rose to match.

"_Have you run your fingers down the wall  
And have you felt your neck skin crawl  
When you're searching for the light?  
Sometimes when you're scared to take a look  
At the corner of the room_

_You've sensed that something's watching you_."

Several of the men-at-arms turned, a couple of them throwing away their weapons, and fled in blind panic. One of the wizards began to back away, the staff in his hand trembling, looking as if he was on the edge of flight. Lady Cold Circle spoke a phrase and gestured with her hand, almost causing Jack to shoot her, but he held back. Whatever 'spell' she cast didn't bring skeletons climbing up out of the floor, or paralyze anyone, but it seemed to bring new heart to those in her immediate vicinity. The closest soldiers stood firm, the priestesses too, and the girl who was screaming stopped and began to wipe her face.

Cierre stepped forward ahead of the rest of the group. Around her the light dimmed even further until she was almost hidden by darkness.

"Naqadah," Sam muttered. "Definitely. I can feel it."

"_Fear of the dark, fear of the dark_,  
_You have a constant fear that something's always near  
Fear of the dark, fear of the dark  
You have a phobia that someone's always there_."

"Darkness take you!" Cierre shouted. She drew sword and axe and the weapons flashed red and blue in the dim light.

"Rage of the Red Tiger!" Daelan roared, not to be outdone.

Teal'c raised his great-sword and joined in. "Evil, meet my sword!" he bellowed, much more passionately than he had managed in the room above. Either the music was inspiring him or Daelan had been giving him lessons. "Sword, meet Evil!"

That was the final straw. The opposing force broke and fled en masse. Even those men-at-arms beside Lady Cold Circle turned and ran for their lives. She had countered the 'magical' fear inspired by Sharwyn's song but obviously couldn't do anything about the perfectly natural desire not to be decapitated by Daelan, Cierre, or the dreaded warrior Teal'c was impersonating.

Only Lady Cold Circle, her three priestesses, and one wizard, plus the motionless robot, remained. Lady Cold Circle folded her arms and stood unmoving.

Sharwyn continued to play her guitar for another few bars, as if caught up in the music, but then played a series of crashing chords and stopped. The lights brightened again, the darkness around Cierre dispersed, and Sharwyn walked out into the hall to join Cierre. The rest of the group followed.

The wizard looked at them and stroked his beard. "To fight you now would be futile," he said. "I have no wish to throw my life away for no purpose. I trust you will not hinder me if I leave in peace?"

"If you agree to take no action against us on our way out of Luskan then, certainly, you may leave without hindrance," Sharwyn said.

"Wait," Cierre put in. "From the trim of your robes I see that you are an Aurilian." The wizard nodded. "You should hear this also."

"You say that in serving Maugrim I am betraying our goddess," Lady Cold Circle said. "What do you mean by that? Neverwinter is opposed to our faith."

"So is Maugrim," Cierre said. "What do you know of his liege Morag?"

Lady Cold Circle shrugged. "She is some warlord or other. What do I care? She intends to sack Neverwinter and that is all I need to know."

"Wrong," Cierre stated. "She is a sarrukh."

Lady Cold Circle's head jerked back. "Impossible! The sarrukh vanished from the North more than thirty thousand years ago."

"She has been hibernating in a pocket plane beneath Neverwinter," Sharwyn said, "and now she plans to break free."

"What's a sarrukh?" Jack asked, simultaneously with Daniel asking the same question.

"The sarrukh were a race of reptile men who ruled this world tens of thousands of years ago," Sharwyn explained. "They were cruel tyrants who enslaved all other races. They created the lizard-folk and the yuan-ti to be their servants and warriors. They were mighty mages. Among other things they created the translation amulets that you wear. Only a change in the climate of Toril brought an end to their reign. It grew too cold for them and their civilization fell."

"And it is still too cold," Lady Cold Circle said, "and any return they made would be brief."

"Not so," said Cierre. "They plan to use the heat of the molten rocks under Neverwinter, and Neverwinter Wood, to melt the great glaciers. The heat of the sun will not be reflected back from the ice and temperatures will rise."

"The albedo of the planet would decrease," Sam commented. "That would certainly have an impact on global temperatures."

"There are gases frozen beneath the sea," Cierre continued, "and if they were melted, and released into the air, they too would trap the sun's heat. This is not something that I understand but I have penetrated their councils and overheard their plans. They believe that it will work."

"It will," Sam confirmed. "They must mean frozen methane deposits. One of the most powerful greenhouse gases. It's something we're starting to worry about on Earth. Runaway global warming. Temperatures would soar."

"And Auril's power would be broken forever," Lady Cold Circle gasped. "What have I done?"

"Join with us and help destroy Maugrim," Cierre said, "and thus atone for your error."

Lady Cold Circle pulled off her helm. Her eyes were wide and her skin seemed even paler than usual. "I cannot," she said. "I have made a terrible mistake."

"Oh, crap," Sharwyn said. "Don't tell me you agreed to a geas?"

"I did," Lady Cold Circle admitted. "It seemed harmless. The vow I took was to aid Maugrim against Neverwinter and I am a sworn foe of Neverwinter anyway."

"I take it this is bad?" Jack asked.

"It's what I warned you about when Vhonna tried to get us to agree to a geas," Daniel said. "If she breaks her word the geas will kill her."

"Slowly, and in agony," Lady Cold Circle confirmed. "I have doomed myself."

Sharwyn heaved a sigh. "All the times I have told the tale of Yoshimo and still people fall into the same trap."

"Can nothing be done?" asked one of the junior priestesses. "Can the magic be dispelled?"

Lady Cold Circle shook her head. "The only way to preserve my life would be for me to continue to serve Maugrim. If I do that I am betraying my goddess and everything that I stand for. I will not do that." The moment the words left her lips she doubled up, clutching her stomach, and her face went as white as a sheet. "It begins," she gasped out. "Kill me."

"What?" Jack shook his head. "You have to be kidding."

"There has to be another way," Sam said.

"There isn't, not if she agreed to the geas," Sharwyn said. "Well, she could abandon her goddess and keep on working for Maugrim, but that could send her to the Wall of the Faithless, and we'd have to kill her anyway." She looked at the wizard. "What about you?"

"If you mean did I consent to a geas, the answer is no," the wizard replied. "My loyalty is to the Arcane Brotherhood. I followed Maugrim because he had defeated Arklem Geeth, and was thus leader of the Brotherhood, and that is all. I am, however, also a Frost Wizard of Auril and I will not act contrary to the interests of my goddess. I shall depart from Luskan, until such time as a legitimate Archmage returns, and take no further part in this war." After exchanging a few more words with Sharwyn, and with Cierre who urged him to spread the word of Maugrim's true aims, the wizard departed.

"Suppose we took you back with us to our world?" Daniel suggested to Lady Cold Circle. "You'd be out of range of the, uh, magic."

"Alas, it would not work," Lady Cold Circle replied. "It's in me. I can't outrun it. I have heard of people who fled to other Planes to escape the effects of a geas but achieved naught except to hasten their deaths."

"There has to be a better way out of it than killing you," Jack said.

"I do not fear death, not if it is for my goddess," she said. "If I die willingly for her that will be sufficient atonement and I will be well received." A smile appeared briefly on her face. "I will be reunited with my mother." Her smile faded and a grimace took its place. Her priestesses clustered around her and tried to ease her pain.

Jack ushered Daniel aside. "I don't believe this," he said. "She says she's not going to work for Maugrim any longer and suddenly she's dying? It has to be in her mind. What do they call it, psychosomatic?"

Daniel shook his head. "It fits exactly with what I read," he said. "The idea isn't to kill the victim; it's to get them to do what the wizard wants. The pain starts up straight away, and gets worse and worse, but it could be a month before it's fatal. If Melmyrna gave in and got back on side with Maugrim, which would probably mean her trying to kill us, she'd be cured instantly."

"And I thought being turned into a za'tarc was bad," Jack muttered. "There are a lot of really nasty things about this world." He turned his attention back to Lady Cold Circle.

"If you must die," Cierre was saying, "it is my duty to be the one to kill you. Unless…?" She directed her gaze at the lesser priestesses.

"Kill our High Priestess?" The one who spoke sounded horrified. "We could not do such a thing."

"It would be to save me from agony and torment, Hlorna," Lady Cold Circle pointed out.

"I could not," the girl repeated. "Do not ask it of me." Her fellow priestesses chorused agreement.

"Then I must," Cierre said, "although it grieves me."

"I'll do it," Tomi said. "Doesn't bother me one bit."

Cierre turned cold eyes on him. "No. You will not. This must be out of compassion and not out of enmity. It must be me." She put her hand to the hilt of her sword.

"Wait," Sharwyn said. "When you strike the Shield Guardian will activate and attack us."

"She is right," Lady Cold Circle said. "I had overlooked that."

"We destroyed two of them on our way in," Sharwyn went on, "but they were not easy fights. I would prefer to avoid the necessity if possible."

"If it's harmless now, I could rig a C4 charge to blow its head off," Jack offered.

"Or you could take me somewhere out of its sight – or whatever it has instead of sight," Lady Cold Circle suggested.

Cierre nodded. "I do not know if the next room would be far enough," she said. "Perhaps the fourth floor? We know that is free from foes."

"Unless someone has gone there from one of the others," Sharwyn said. "I believe it is an acceptable risk, however."

"Then so shall it be," Lady Cold Circle said, and then her face contorted and her mouth clamped shut with an intensity that suggested she was choking back a scream. After a few moments she relaxed slightly. "Hurry," she implored, in a gasp, and then closed her mouth tightly shut again.

Cierre led her back to the portal room, supporting her as Lady Cold Circle now had trouble walking unaided, and the others heard the sound of the portal activating.

"I'm surprised at how quickly Lady Cold Circle was convinced," Jack remarked.

"Cierre spoke with conviction," Teal'c said, "and she had already seen evidence that Maugrim was not to be trusted."

"Yeah," Jack said, "leaving Cierre to die, after she killed Kenadi for him, was probably about the worst move Maugrim could have made." He turned to Sam. "So, you sensed Naqadah when Cierre did that thing with the darkness?"

"I did," Sam said. "I can't work it out. I don't think it's anything to do with the Goa'uld at all. Maybe we'll learn more later."

"I think your theory about the Furlings just got disproved," Jack went on. "Those prehistoric reptile people don't fit in."

"They could have caused the collapse of the Furling civilization, and then fallen in their turn," Sam said. "The answer's probably in those books we wouldn't let Daniel look at."

Daniel didn't respond to what Jack would have thought was an irresistible opening. He was staring in the direction of the portal room, a frown on his face, his thoughts obviously miles away – or on the fourth floor. Jack left him to it.

A minute later they heard the sound of the transporter once more and then Cierre re-entered the hall. She went to the priestess Hlorna and, with trembling hands, passed her the portal activation stone. "Here," she said. "Collect her body and give her a proper burial." She turned to Sharwyn. "We should go."

Sharwyn looked into Cierre's face. Jack did the same and saw a couple of tears trickling down the black girl's cheeks. "Are you alright?" Sharwyn asked.

"No," Cierre confessed. The flow of tears accelerated. "I feel… unclean. I have killed more times than I can count, thousands no doubt, but never like this." She clenched her fists. "I had thought that it was impossible for me to hate Maugrim more than I did when he left me to die. I was wrong."

Sam went to Cierre and tried to put an arm around her shoulders but the two sword scabbards, and the longbow, slung at Cierre's back made the gesture impossible. Instead she took hold of Cierre's left shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Cierre put her right hand over Sam's and squeezed in return.

"Thank you," Cierre said. She dabbed at her eyes with a piece of cloth and then disengaged herself from Sam's hand. "I feel better now," she said, although Jack doubted if she was being truthful. "Let us leave this tower now and go out into the city. I wish to kill someone who actually deserves it."

Teal'c swung his sword up and rested it on his shoulder. "Indeed."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

Songs performed by Sharwyn are 'Now that the magic has gone' by John Miles, 'Where the streets have no name' by U2, 'Get Back' by The Beatles, and (with an 'I' turned into a 'you') 'Fear of the Dark' by Iron Maiden. Lyrics are used without permission and with no intent to profit. The chapter title comes from the Pink Floyd song 'Take It Back'.


	5. Angels and Demons

**Chapter Five**

**Angels and Demons**

Maugrim's people seemed to be really serious about guarding the Stargate. There had been over a hundred well-armed men around it when SG-1 and their new friends had arrived. Quite a few of the enemy were dead now, and corpses littered thfe red-stained snow, but there was still a large contingent remaining.

Jack fired single shots and short bursts, trying to pick off the archers and the wizards, leaving the swordsmen and the spearmen to the devastating close combat abilities of Teal'c, Daelan, and Cierre. Daniel and Sam covered the flanks, shooting anyone who tried to get round behind the others. Little Tomi was spotting for Jack, warning him of any invisible opponents, and Sharwyn… was singing.

Shrieking, rather, something Heavy Metal-ish, and somehow managing to make her acoustic accompaniment sound like a heavily distorted electric guitar. Jack could barely make out the lyrics above the sound of gunfire, and the screams of the dying, but he could see the effects of the song; a vicious flurry of giant hailstones, some as big as baseballs, hurtling down from the sky in a tight column centered on the enemy, and hitting hard enough to knock some of the advancing men from their feet and forcing others to cover their faces and stumble along blindly. A tight phalanx of twenty-odd spearmen, formidable opposition even for highly skilled warriors, was disintegrating into a rabble. Seven mounted knights failed to control their horses and retreated in confusion.

"_Snowballed_," Sharwyn screeched, "_Yes you have,_

_Snowba-_…"

Suddenly her voice and guitar playing chopped off abruptly. Jack flicked a glance in Sharwyn's direction, fearing that she'd been hit by an arrow, but she seemed to be unwounded. Her hand moved across her guitar strings, and her lips were moving, but no sound emerged. Jack turned to face the enemy once more, saw that the hailstorm had come to an abrupt halt when Sharwyn fell silent, and squeezed off a shot at a crossbowman who was bringing his weapon to the aim. Jack turned his attention back to Sharwyn. The girl singer had laid down her guitar on the ground and pulled her sword-staff thing, shrunk down somehow to flashlight size, out of her pants pocket. She twirled the weapon and it expanded out to its full six-foot length.

Sam's pistol was empty. She backed away from the battle, needing a moment to reload, and a pair of mail-clad warriors charged at her with broadswords raised. Sharwyn ran to intercept them. She blocked one man's sword stroke with the center of her staff, twisted, and raked a blade across his legs. The man went down in a welter of blood, his face twisted in an eerie silent scream, and Sharwyn brought the other blade around and delivered the _coup de grâce_. Sam avoided the other man's blow with ease, lashed out with a kick as he stumbled off balance, and sent him sprawling on his face in the snow. Sharwyn stabbed him in the back before he could recover. Sam completed her reload and fired at another attacker. The shot made no sound at all and, if it hadn't been for the sight of the Luskan man-at-arms falling and lying still, Jack would have assumed it had been a misfire.

Jack scanned his surroundings and saw that the spear phalanx was recovering its cohesion. Another half-minute without Sharwyn's hailstone bombardment and it would be a force to be reckoned with again. A single grenade would smash it apart but he had no grenades. Improvising something out of what was left of the C4 would take too long. He glanced down at the translucent magazine of his P-90. Half empty. Still, twenty-five rounds would tear up the phalanx badly, maybe even make them break and run, and the close combat experts should be able to cope with what was left. Jack raised the P-90 and took aim.

"Wizard, just to the left of that…" Tomi began, his gaze focused through the magical gem at the area close to the DHD. He didn't finish his warning.

Jack was beginning to understand some of the rules behind this world's technology, or magic, or whatever. The kind of invisibility they used was disrupted when the invisible person attacked. He looked across just in time to see a robed guy with a pointy hat, standing close to the DHD, pop into view. A glowing orange streak of light was shooting out from the wizard's hand and approaching rapidly. Jack had a horrible feeling that he knew exactly what it was. A big honking fireball.

"Incoming! Everybody down!" he yelled, and threw himself to the ground.

Tomi and Daniel were the only ones who followed suit. Teal'c, Daelan, and Cierre remained upright on sound tactical principles; face down in the dirt was the worst possible place to be in a sword-fight, and their only option was to rely on their proximity to the wizard's allies and hope they weren't targeted. Sam and Sharwyn stayed up for a different reason. The blanket of silence around Sharwyn meant that they simply didn't hear the warning.

Jack felt a wave of heat wash over him, the back of his neck and his hands searing with sudden pain, and then it was gone and he'd suffered nothing worse than the equivalent of bad sunburn. He scrambled up and checked the situation.

The fireball had encompassed Cierre and the two men she'd been fighting but, somehow, she was completely untouched. Her opponents hadn't been so lucky; they were pillars of flame, a gruesomely literal example of 'Friendly Fire', and the rapid sweeps of Cierre's sword and axe that silenced their screams were acts of mercy. Sharwyn had come out unscathed as well.

Sam was a human torch.

She burned from head to foot, flames enveloping her in a deadly shroud, gyrating in a silent dance of death.

Jack felt terror sweeping through him and he rushed towards her. "Sam!" he cried, all thoughts of military propriety driven from his mind.

Sharwyn had already acted. She hurled herself at Sam, swept her up, and carried her out of the green circle where the fireball had vaporized the snow. Sharwyn, her own clothes charring now, rolled Sam in the snow to put out the flames.

Jack halted. There wasn't anything he could do for Sam that Sharwyn wasn't doing already – except wreak vengeance. He brought the P-90 up to his shoulder and located on the wizard. The man was, incongruously, in the act of taking a drink from some sort of flask. Jack lined up the sights but, even as he squeezed the trigger, his target disappeared.

"Crap," Jack grunted under his breath, but then he saw that he hadn't missed. The wizard reappeared in the sights, his face under the pointy hat a mask of blood, and staggered sideways to crash into the DHD and fall to the ground.

Immediately Jack turned his gaze back to Sam. Sharwyn had extinguished the flames and was trying to get Sam to drink something – a healing potion, presumably – but Sam seemed to be in too much pain to understand and was thrashing around wildly. Jack was about to go to her assistance when a shout from Tomi brought his attention back to the battle.

"Cavalry!" the little man yelled. "Fuck, and Sharwyn's silenced."

The knights were coming back. Seven of them, in a full charge, lances leveled and aiming straight for Daelan and Teal'c. Meanwhile the spear phalanx was approaching at a quick march.

"I'm on it," Jack said. He aimed for the charging horses and let loose on full auto, heedless of ammunition expenditure, ripping horses and men apart in a storm of lead. Horses screamed, an even more chilling sound than the screams of the men, and crashed to the ground. Knights fell dead or wounded. When the P-90 ran dry there was only one knight still coming.

Teal'c sidestepped the knight's lance thrust and struck at the horse. The rider pulled on the reins and the horse halted, reared, and kicked out at Teal'c with its fore-hooves. Daelan got behind the horse and swung his double-axe at its right rear leg. The limb buckled and the horse toppled over, pinning the rider under its body in its fall, struggling and screaming and grinding the knight into the ground as it tried to rise. Teal'c chopped into its neck with his two-handed sword and its struggles ceased.

Cierre threw something into the middle of the spear phalanx, presumably something like a grenade, and there was an explosion and a flash of fire. It wasn't particularly powerful, and it seemed to wound only two or three of the spearmen, but it disrupted the formation and the hedge of spear-points wavered.

Retaliation came in the form of a torrent of fire, raining out of the sky directly on Cierre, hiding her from view for a moment. The flames disappeared and revealed Cierre yet again standing completely unharmed. She brandished her flaming sword and Jack heard her laugh.

"The priest's in the middle of the spearmen," Tomi told Jack. "Flame Strike's a good spell but it won't do much to a drow holding Angurvadal."

Jack didn't know what the midget meant but he could tell that breaking up the phalanx was the last thing that needed to be done to win the battle. He leveled his sidearm and opened fire at one corner of the square formation. The Beretta's 9mm bullets didn't have anything like the armor-piercing capabilities of the P-90's ammo but it was all he had. He aimed carefully, trying to avoid the shields and armor, going for head-shots whenever possible. Across the field he could hear Daniel's pistol cracking out and a quick glance showed that his colleague was taking out the other corner.

Jack fired his last shot and the slide locked back. He had no more magazines. Daniel's gun fell silent a moment later. It didn't matter. Several men were down and there were gaping holes in the formation.

"Victory!" Cierre cried. "Darkness take you!" She hurled herself into one of the gaps, her sword and axe flashing, and began to kill. Seconds later Teal'c and Daelan followed her example. The double-axe whirled through the air, Teal'c's sword swung in lethal arcs, and men fell dead. It was quite obvious that none of the spearmen stood a chance now that their formation was shattered.

Jack holstered his sidearm. The fight was, effectively, over except for mopping up. Tomi had moved away was now using his dagger to make sure that any surviving knights, wounded or stunned by falls from collapsing horses, didn't get up again. Ruthless but, in the circumstances, necessary. Sam was now sitting up, supported by Sharwyn, and was actively drinking a healing potion. Jack hastened over to join them. The sounds of combat fell silent as he neared Sharwyn and Sam.

"Thank God! I thought you were…" Jack began. He couldn't hear his own voice and he stopped. He stood and watched as Sam's skin miraculously repaired itself and the ghastly burns healed. Even her hair, which had been burnt away to stubble, was growing back.

Sharwyn looked at Jack. Her gaze seemed to focus on his hands, she grimaced, and she fished another potion bottle out of her belt with her free hand and held it out to Jack. Suddenly he became conscious of the pain from his scorched skin. He took the bottle, pried off the cap, and gulped the liquid down. It tasted quite pleasant, sour but with a fruity flavor, reminding him of Belgian kriek beer. The stinging sensation in his hands and the back of his neck cleared up immediately.

He couldn't talk to Sam, not until Sharwyn got out of the area and took the silence with her, and the singer seemed to have Sam's medical care well in hand. Jack decided that the most useful thing he could do right now was to reload. There was always the possibility that more of the enemy would turn up. He scooped a handful of loose rounds out of his pocket and began the laborious task of topping up the empty magazine. As he did so he checked out the battlefield again and realized that the battle wasn't quite as over as he'd thought.

The dead were getting up.

It wasn't the Resurrection. In amongst the wreckage of the spear phalanx corpses clambered to their feet, still disfigured by the gaping wounds that had killed them, and lurched to the attack. It was as if they were intent on avenging their deaths.

"Oh, great, we're starring in Dawn of the freakin' Dead," Jack grumbled, inaudibly even to himself, and he redoubled the rate at which he was reloading the magazine.

The zombies didn't pose much of a challenge to Teal'c, Daelan, and Cierre. Jack remembered Kenadi having trouble putting zombies down, soon after SG-1's arrival on the planet, but that had been because her slim-bladed piercing sword hadn't been well suited to slaying things without a beating heart and circulating blood. Axes and heavy cutting swords were much better suited to the task. The dead, or undead, went down and stayed down. Then Cierre slew a living man, an armored figure wielding a mace, and the zombies wavered. Their attacks lost focus, some going after the few surviving spearmen and others shambling away in random directions, and thirty seconds later they had all been hacked to pieces. The last of the spearmen fell to a blow from Daelan's axe and that really was the end of the fight.

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

Daniel cast his eyes over the DHD, grinned, and then began pressing the formerly incomprehensible symbols. "A musical notation, just as I thought," he said.

"Don't tell me," Jack said, "it's the 'Close Encounters of the Third Kind' theme."

Daniel paused with his hand over the central globe. "That would only be five notes," he said. "No, it's not from any tune I recognize."

"Which rules out most classical stuff and the soundtrack from 'The Wizard of Oz'," Jack remarked. Daniel ignored him and slapped his hand down. The Gate activated, the vortex plume shot out, and then the event horizon stabilized.

The locals had broken off from looting bodies to watch. "Interesting," Cierre commented. "I sense more power than is required for the portals with which I am familiar."

"It is the Voice of the Lost," Sharwyn said. The silencing effect on her had gone away about a minute after the last of the enemy had fallen. "The master portal that linked all of the Illefarn song portals and, according to legend, was also a gateway to other worlds. We now have proof that the legends were true."

"This 'Illefarn' was a civilization around here, right?" Daniel asked. "What happened to it?"

Jack tuned out Daniel and Sharwyn's discussion and spoke into his radio. "SGC, this is Colonel O'Neill, come in."

"Colonel O'Neill! Where are you, sir?" Jack didn't immediately recognize the voice. Well, he supposed Walter Harriman had to go off-duty sometime.

"We're still on…" Jack tried to dredge up the alpha-numeric designation for the planet but came up dry. "The planet we went to."

Sam filled in the blank. "P3A-219," she prompted.

"Oh, yeah, P3A-219," Jack said, giving Sam a nod of thanks. "The locals call it Toril."

"Colonel O'Neill," the distinctive voice of General Hammond came over the radio. He sounded slightly out of breath. Jack guessed that the General had rushed to the control room as soon as the 'Unscheduled Gate Activation' alarm had blared out. "This is a new record in lateness even for you. Where the hell have you been, Jack?"

"We got tied up, General," Jack explained. "That's literally. We spent ten days in a dungeon getting tortured by an expert."

"Is everyone okay?" Hammond asked.

"We are now," Jack said. "The locals have some pretty effective medical techniques. Awesomely effective. Otherwise we'd probably all be dead."

"I'll be waiting for your report," Hammond said. "I notice you haven't transmitted your IDC. I take it you lost the GDOs when you were captured? I'll need to speak to all of you before I give the go-ahead to open the iris."

"Actually, sir, we recovered a GDO," Jack said, "but we're not coming home just yet. There's something we have to do first."

"I hope it's something important," Hammond said.

Jack nodded, even though Hammond couldn't see him as they hadn't established a video link, and explained. "This planet isn't as primitive as we'd thought," he said. "In some fields the locals seem to be way ahead of us. Carter thinks they could be the Furlings."

"Oh?"

"I'm not so sure," Jack went on, "but Daniel thinks she might have a point. Anyway, one area they're behind us in is projectile weapons. There's a war going on here right now and the side that had us tortured took our guns. We got one of the P-90s back, and our sidearms, but they still have two P-90s and two hundred and fifty rounds, a few grenades, and Teal'c's staff weapon and zat."

"A few weapons aren't worth risking your lives for, and neither is revenge," Hammond said, "and I want you back here."

"There's more to it, sir," Jack replied. "Those weapons could give the bad guys the edge. They're really not good people. They used bacteriological warfare against the other side, the ones who've been helping us out, and now they're planning on triggering an ecological catastrophe. There might be some useful trade possibilities here but that would be kind of difficult if the friendly side gets wiped out. It's not only our duty to help out, seeing as how it's our weapons that might tip the scale, but it's in our own interests too."

Hammond was silent for a moment. "Very well, Colonel, you have my permission," he said. "Don't take too long."

"Thank you, sir," Jack said. "We need some supplies. Two more P-90s and at least a dozen magazines, say three clips apiece for our sidearms, a replacement staff weapon for Teal'c, if we have one, otherwise an extra P-90 and more ammo, and new winter-pattern BDUs all round. Our clothes got chewed up more than somewhat. Oh, yeah, and we could use a grenade launcher."

"Isn't that rather… overkill?"

"If you'd seen what we've seen you wouldn't ask that, sir," Jack said. "They have battle robots fifteen feet tall. In fact I was tempted to ask for an M136 or two."

Again Hammond paused for a while before replying. "Very well. Actually it sounds as if you could use reinforcements. I had SG-3 and SG-20 standing by in readiness for a rescue mission and it was only the problem with the non-standard Gate that stopped me sending them in before now. I'll have them ready for a go inside an hour. Fully armed including a SAW, at least one M136, and grenade launchers."

It was Jack's turn to hesitate and consider. "I'm not sure about that, sir. Maybe we'd better stick to just the original team. The learning curve on this world is pretty steep and we've already been through it. Also we're planning on being as quiet and sneaky as possible and a big group would make that hard. We have four native allies, they're pretty tough, and eight is plenty for a stealth operation. We'd draw too much attention with more. The SAW sounds good, though."

Daniel frowned. "A machine-gun would draw a lot of attention too, Jack, and suppose it fell into the hands of the Luskans? I'd say stick to what they already know about. That way we don't make things even worse if things go wrong."

"I suppose you have a point," Jack conceded. "We don't work for the _Star Trek_ Federation, Daniel, and we don't have to stick to any Prime Directive, but I guess we don't want to screw things up for the locals any more than we already have done." He went back to the radio. "Change of plan, General, don't bother with the SAW. I'd still like an M136, though, and a grenade launcher."

"Of course, Colonel," General Hammond replied. "Expect the supplies in twenty minutes or so."

"Thank you, sir," Jack said.

"I'm glad to find out you're safe," Hammond added. "We've been keeping a constant radio watch, dialing the Gate twice daily, and I brought in Dr Rodney MacKay to help decipher the non-standard DHD symbols." Jack heard Sam utter a quiet groan.

"Daniel figured them out, with a little help from the locals," Jack said.

"Well done, Doctor Jackson," Hammond said. "I also got in touch with the Tok'ra to see if they could mount a rescue by ship." Jack heard him drawing in a deep breath. "Colonel, they say that the planet you're on doesn't exist."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "I'm standing right here, sir, I think that's pretty positive proof that it exists."

"It didn't fifteen years ago," Hammond said, "at least not as a habitable environment, according to the Tok'ra. They surveyed it as a possible location for a base and rejected it because it was in the depths of an ice age. The Gate was under a glacier, the oceans were frozen, and they didn't detect any signs of life at all."

"Huh? Are you sure they didn't mean fifteen _thousand_? It doesn't make sense."

"That's what they told me," Hammond confirmed.

"It makes sense to me," Daniel put in. "If the local gods really are Ascended Beings, and they're as powerful as they seem, they wouldn't have had any problem hiding the real state of the planet from the Tok'ra."

"You could be right," Jack agreed, "although that doesn't explain how they didn't hide it from us."

"Oh, that's easy," Sharwyn said, giving Jack a beaming smile. "They like Earth. It was your people who taught our gods to rock."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

Daniel hovered over Sharwyn, managing to hold himself back from actually saying anything, but Jack could hear the words 'Are you sure you know what you're doing?' as plainly as if Daniel was saying them out loud. Sharwyn read Daniel just as easily.

"I have used portals before, Daniel," she reminded him, with an accompanying eye-roll. "Not this particular one, true, but I've traveled to the Halls of Justice through other portals quite often." She touched a finger lightly to five of the DHD's symbols, too lightly to activate them, and then played the five corresponding notes on her guitar. "Yes, that's it," she said. She lowered the instrument and pressed the symbols again, more firmly this time, and the ring revolved and the chevrons locked. Sharwyn slapped the central globe, hard, and the space inside the ring shimmered and changed.

There was no 'kawoosh'. Instead a blue surface, paler and dimmer than a normal event horizon, appeared quietly and without fuss.

"Fascinating," Daniel breathed.

"Short range, low power, only traveling in two dimensions," Sam muttered. "I had no idea the Gates could be used like this."

Jack shouldered his pack. "We might as well get going. It's time to kick some ass."

"And chew bubblegum," Sharwyn added.

"I'm all out of bubblegum," Jack responded, "and it's one thing I didn't think to ask General Hammond to send along."

"That's okay," Sharwyn said. "I don't even know what bubblegum is." She walked towards the Gate. "I'd better go first. Strangers turning up in the Halls, when the city is under siege, might trigger a hostile reaction."

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed.

"Sure thing," Jack said.

Sharwyn led the way, with Daelan and Tomi at her heels, with SG-1 following and Cierre, who looked uncharacteristically nervous, bringing up the rear. One by one they went through the pale blue curtain and disappeared. Jack stepped through and was slightly taken aback by the absence of the familiar sensation of hurtling through space through a tunnel lined with streaks of light. Instead he just stepped straight out into somewhere else.

A great big room, with a stone floor and stone walls, and majestic stone pillars supporting the ceiling. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the portal as a blue circle in the air, hanging unsupported, with no Gate ring around it. They were standing on a large square platform, empty except for the portal and a water-filled stone font, and there was no sign of any DHD.

There were quite a few people in the room. Some of them were armed guards, in plate armor and carrying swords, but most seemed to be civilians. A lot of them were lying down in bedrolls on the floor and seemed to be being tended by women who were probably nurses.

"This is a hospital?" Daniel guessed.

"It's the Temple of Tyr," Sharwyn replied, as she led the group off the platform and into the room proper, "but it was pressed into service as a hospital during the plague and it seems it still serves that purpose. Hello, Sergol."

"Greetings, Sharwyn," a white-haired man in long robes responded. "This is a time of great need. Have you brought us aid?"

"I have," Sharwyn said. "You could probably use these." She passed the man a sack. "We have to keep plenty of potions for our own use, I'm afraid, but here's all we can spare. What's the situation?"

"The Luskans have occupied large sections of the city and there are many dead and injured," Sergol told her. "I do not know the details. You will need to speak to Aarin Gend, or to Trancar, to find out the military situation. I concern myself only with tending to the wounded."

"Aarin will be at the Castle, I expect. Where's Trancar?"

"He has set up a temporary headquarters at the Trade of Blades," Sergol replied. His gaze focused on Cierre. "This, I take it, is the drow who slew the Hero of Neverwinter?"

Every head in the place swiveled and every eye stared at Cierre. "I am," Cierre admitted. "I was tricked into it and I regret it greatly."

"Murderer!" one of the nurses hissed.

"Vile drow!" another one snarled.

"Slay the murderer!" shouted one man, clad in the sort of pants and tunic that Jack associated with Medieval peasant types, and who was just standing around and didn't seem to be part of the medical staff or the guards.

A nurse nearby took two strides and swung her hand at the man. His head jerked back with the impact of the slap. "Shut up!" she yelled. "She's on our side now, right? Nothing matters except killing that fucker Maugrim." Jack saw the nurse's face and winced. Her body was… spectacular, slim yet curvaceous enough to turn Anise green with envy, but her face was a ravaged, pockmarked, horror.

"Hold, all of you!" Sergol commanded. He gazed intently at Cierre. "I sense no evil in this woman."

"No evil? But she's a drow," one of the guardsmen in armor pointed out.

"And is Drizzt Do'Urden not also a drow?" Sergol asked, presumably rhetorically. "This is a place for healing, not for argument and recrimination, and I will have order here. Return to your duties. As Chantry has said, although in intemperate terms, the struggle against Maugrim is all that is important for the present."

"Chantry?" Sharwyn's eyes were huge circles. "Oh, my Goddess!"

The pock-marked nurse turned her face away. "Fuck off, Sharwyn," she said. "I don't want your pity. You were right. My so-called goddess is a useless piece of shit. But if you say 'I told you so' I will smash your still-pretty face in."

"I never…" Sharwyn began, and then fell silent. The nurse scuttled away towards a door. Sharwyn turned to Jack. "I can't deal with this," she said. "Come on. Let's get out of here. I really need to kill something evil." She set off in the opposite direction to that in which the nurse had gone, heading towards a large double door that was guarded by six armed men, and which was presumably the exit into the city. The rest of the group followed.

"Welcome to my city," Sharwyn said, as they passed through the doors and emerged into the open air, "or at least to what's left of it."

If Luskan had been Sarajevo then Neverwinter was Stalingrad. The air was thick with smoke. There were gaps in the streets where buildings had been smashed to pieces or burned down. Streaks of light in the sky showed the paths of blazing missiles being flung into the city by siege engines.

"We'd better go to the Trade of Blades first and find out where we're most needed, and where Maugrim's most likely to be," Sharwyn said, as they walked across a beautiful stone plaza, set with flower-beds and fountains, but which was scarred by paving slabs shattered under the impact of falling rocks. "Aarin Gend and Kenadi were… close. If Cierre turns up at Castle Never right now, without at least Maugrim's head hanging at her belt as a peace offering, things might get… nasty."

"Sounds sensible," Jack agreed.

"Of all the things I have done in my life that is the one I regret most," Cierre said. "I should have cut Maugrim's lying throat when first he approached me."

"You couldn't have known," Sharwyn said.

"You have… done what you could to make amends," Daelan said, "and you beat her in fair fight." He spoke slowly, as if the words were being dragged out of him against his will, but Jack deduced that Cierre's deeds had softened Daelan's initially hostile attitude.

"I cheated," Cierre confessed. "I faked her out. I took a hit from her sword deliberately and relied on my magic resistance to beat its stun effect. I pretended to be paralyzed to lure her into letting down her guard."

Daelan's heavy brows descended low. "That was a… legitimate combat tactic," he conceded. "I do not hold it against you. I do not know if I can ever forgive you for her death but I accept that you fought with honor."

"Thanks," Cierre grunted. For a minute or so, as the group walked through the city and surveyed the devastation, no-one spoke.

Eventually Jack decided that conversation, even on a potentially awkward topic, would be better than the sounds of the bombardment and the occasional screams of injured and dying civilians. "That, uh, nurse back there," he said to Sharwyn. "She was a friend of yours, I guess?"

"Not exactly," Sharwyn replied. "She was a fan, that's all. She liked my music. She's also an obnoxious spoiled brat. Wealthy, beautiful, and arrogant."

"Beautiful?" Jack fought to stop his jaw from dropping. He heard Daniel mutter an obscenity, probably in Ancient Egyptian but translated into English by the amulets, under his breath. Sam uttered a sound that sounded like a choked sob.

"Miss Neverwinter 1370 and 1371," Sharwyn said. She had gone visibly pale and looked as if she was on the verge of being sick. "They called her the Face of the Seventies. I've heard her described as the most beautiful girl Neverwinter has seen in living memory. Leading acolyte of the Temple of Sûne and tipped to be a future High Priestess. Of course that was before the Wailing Death." Jack saw her throat move as she swallowed hard. "I'll say this for her," Sharwyn went on. "When the plague hit Neverwinter the other Sûnites all legged it out of the city as fast as they could. She must have stayed to help – and caught the plague."

"How come the plague did so much damage?" Sam asked. "Your, uh, priests are so good at healing injuries that I would have thought they could handle disease just as easily."

"They can, normally," Sharwyn said, "but even a High Priest can only do a few Cure Diseases each day. This plague was resistant and it was taking two or three Cure spells to work. We were getting hundreds of new cases each day." She sighed. "The priestesses of Talona were getting the best results but there were only three of them in the city."

"Talona," Daniel commented. "Goddess of Disease and Poison, am I correct?"

"That's right," said Sharwyn. "Anyway, some damn fool started a rumor that the Talonans had _started_ the plague. One of them was lynched and the others went underground. Actually it was probably Desther and his fake Priests of Helm who started the rumor. They were the ones who were spreading the plague, working for Maugrim, and when we came up with a cure they nearly succeeded in stealing it. They would have done if it hadn't been for Kenadi."

They walked on without further conversation for a few paces and turned a corner. "This is it," Sharwyn said, stopping in front of a building which looked like a cross between a miniature fortress and an inn. "The Trade of Blades." She opened the door and led them inside.

If Jack hadn't already been told the place was being used as a temporary military HQ he would have recognized it immediately anyway. Or else assumed that wargaming as a hobby had spread to Toril. A large trestle table was set up in the middle of the room, with soldier types clustered around it, and chalk lines were drawn on the wood presumably to represent districts of the city. Toy soldiers, pretty crude compared with modern Earth wargaming figures, were clustered inside the lines. There were no maps on display, which was slightly puzzling, but otherwise the purpose was clear.

A grizzled, mustachioed, guy in plate armor turned away from the table as the newcomers filed in. "Sharwyn," he greeted. "Daelan. Good to see you. We need every fighter we can get."

"What's the situation, Captain Trancar?" Sharwyn asked.

"The Luskans have overrun most of the city," Trancar told her. "They've driven us out of the Beggars' Nest altogether and control most of the Peninsula District, the Docks, pretty much everywhere except Blacklake and the Mercantile Quarter. Right now they're consolidating, bombarding the rest of the city, and looting. They're not launching any new attacks at the moment, probably waiting for the bombardment to wear us down, but they seem to be massing their forces to the South."

"They'll be coming at us again before long," one of the other soldiers said. "I've never known the Luskans be this determined. They press home their attacks even against massive odds and, even wounded and surrounded, they won't surrender."

"Maugrim's followers are fanatics," Sharwyn said. "I found the diary of one of his cultists recording how he'd had his wife flogged to death when she expressed doubts over Maugrim's cause. I think you'd find that ordinary Luskan soldiers aren't as enthusiastic. The trouble is they're probably more scared of Maugrim than they are of us."

"Perhaps," Trancar said, "but in practice it makes little difference. And by now the advantage is decisively with Luskan. Between our losses from the plague, and the casualties we have taken in the street-fighting, they outnumber us significantly."

"How long before the troops from the Lords' Alliance get here?" Sharwyn asked.

"Five days, at the soonest, they say," Trancar said. "I can't see us holding out that long unless we can get rid of their catapults and their bloody war golems. I've tried a few sorties at the catapults but they beat us back every time. The Luskans have a new rapid-fire smoke-powder weapon that tears up any massed formation and in open order we can't cope with the golems and the giants."

"Giants?" Jack put in.

"Frost Giants, allies of the Luskans," Trancar said. His eyes narrowed and he focused on the P-90 slung across Jack's chest. "Those look like the Luskan weapons."

"The Luskans stole the weapons from us," Jack said. "We want them back. Plus we want payback for a week and a half of torture in their dungeons."

"A what?"

"A ten-day," Sharwyn translated. "These people are from a far place and count their days in sevens." She gave a tight smile. "They're on our side and they're damn good fighters."

"They'll need to be," Trancar said, sounding skeptical.

"Just show us where to find these catapults and robots, uh, golems," Jack said. He cast an eye over the table. "A map would be a help."

"Lord Nasher does not permit maps of Neverwinter to be made," Trancar said. "He wants the defenders of Neverwinter always to have the advantage of local knowledge."

"And, of course, the leader of the Neverwinter Nine is never going to defect to the enemy, and there are no such things as Clairvoyance spells and aerial reconnaissance by griffin riders," Sharwyn said, with a roll of her eyes. "Which reminds me, do the Luskans have any air support?"

Trancor shook his head. "Not much," he said. "A few wizards using Fly spells, but their own catapults make that hazardous for them as much as for us. A few of the men have seen a big flying demon but it hasn't come this way."

"Damn, and I didn't think to ask General Hammond for any Stingers," Jack said. "Okay, so where are these catapults? And where can I find Maugrim?"

Jack listened intently as Trancor explained the layout of the area and the disposition of the enemy forces. It didn't take long for him to get a grasp of the salient points. Meanwhile one of the other people in the room had approached the group.

"Hello, Sharwyn, Daelan, Tomi." It was a small woman, about five foot two, with long pointed ears. She was wearing plate armor and had a shield strapped to her arm.

"Linu," Daelan said. "How are you faring?"

"I survive," Linu said. "Boddyknock and Grimgnaw are dead."

"I am saddened to hear of Boddyknock's death," Daelan said, "but I will shed no tears for Grimgnaw."

"He was a nasty little bastard," Sharwyn said.

"He died well," Linu said. "He slew half a dozen Luskan assassins before they took him down." She toyed with the mace at her belt, somehow managed to slip it free from its hanging strap, and dropped it on the floor. She bent down hastily and picked it up. "I am glad to see that you are free from your captivity, Daelan. It seems that I was not missed."

"Your healing skills were sorely missed, Linu," Sharwyn admitted. "Sam," she gestured towards Carter, "was severely injured by a fireball and I had great difficulty in administering a potion. She almost died."

"I could rejoin you," Linu offered.

"Then you are willing to fight alongside Cierre?"

Linu shook her head. "Never."

"Then we cannot use you," Sharwyn said. "Cierre is a fighter of exceptional skill and we would not have prevailed thus far without her."

Linu raised an eyebrow. "As good as Aribeth?"

Sharwyn hesitated and bit her lip before replying. "I fear not."

"I am a match for any mere surface elf," Cierre stated. The edge to her voice showed that she had taken offense.

"I am sorry, Cierre, I do not mean to belittle you, but you know not of what you speak," Sharwyn said. "Aribeth is a fighter almost without equal." Sharwyn looked at Teal'c, who still bore the faded remnants of the blue circle she had painted on his face earlier. "Do you remember when I talked of Minsc and said that perhaps only ten in all Faerûn could stand against him? Aribeth, alas, is one of those ten. And we'll have to go through her to get to Maugrim."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

Jack cautiously poked his head above the rubble, put his binoculars to his eyes, and took a look at the line of catapults. He had a superficial knowledge of the ancient weapons, from military history studies at the Air Force Academy, but it had been a long time ago and he'd forgotten a lot. Daniel was bound to know a lot more but it probably wasn't relevant. All he needed to know was how to destroy them and that was fairly obvious. Smash the wood, cut the ropes, light them on fire. Or kill the crews.

"Two trebuchets," he heard Daniel say, "four ballistas, and a mangonel. The mangonel's the one with the longest range, the ballistas have a flat trajectory and are the most accurate."

"I'm not going to pick and choose, Daniel," Jack said. "We take them all out. Of course first we have to get past the freakin' robot."

A metal man, looking as if it had been built out of girders, was guarding the flank of the siege engine battery. In the distance Jack could see a second huge robot. Roaming behind the line was an impossible figure; a pale-skinned Viking warrior, to all appearances, but over fifteen feet tall.

"I don't understand how that giant can even walk," Sam commented. "The cube-square law should mean that the stress on his bones should snap them like twigs."

"_Paraceratherium_ was taller and much heavier," Daniel pointed out.

"But quadrupedal," Sam riposted.

"_Tyrannosaurus Rex_, then, although dinosaurs saved weight with hollow bones," Daniel said. "And what about _Gigantopithecus_? Ten feet tall, humanoid, and probably weighed twelve hundred pounds or more. That giant might be taller but he's also thinner."

"He's there, he's real, there's no point in trying to disprove him," Jack said, his head starting to spin from the paleontological bickering. "At least he doesn't look tough enough to shrug off machine-gun bullets. The robot is our big problem. We're only going to get one shot at it and I want to make it count."

"We would have the best line of fire if it was coming towards us," Teal'c said.

Jack nodded. "Good thinking. Okay, people, a grenade at one of the catapults should get its attention."

"And that of the human guards," Cierre said, pointing at the siege engines. Each one, as well as the numerous crew winding up the ballistas and heaving at the ropes of the trebuchets and mangonel, had several men-at-arms standing on guard in the vicinity.

Jack scrutinized them through his binoculars. "Well, we've located one of the P-90s," he said. "There's one of those dwarf types beside the odd one out, the mangonel, and he's got a gun."

"He'd never hit us at this range," Sam said.

"Yeah, well, that was what General Sedgwick thought at the Battle of Spotsylvania," Jack reminded her. "Better if he doesn't even get off a shot. Okay, this is what we'll do…"

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

Jack took careful aim and pulled the trigger of the M79 grenade launcher. The distinctive 'bloop' as the weapon fired didn't seem to register with the Luskan soldiers as a threat. The catapult crews were still working, and the men-at-arms were still standing on guard, when the 40mm grenade struck the base of the mangonel and went off.

The sound of the explosion was still ringing out when Sam and Teal'c opened up with their P-90s. Those of the catapult crew who had survived the explosion went down under the hail of bullets. Jack dropped the M79, snatched up his binoculars, and checked the target area. The dwarf lay on the ground, ripped apart by shrapnel, and the P-90 had been blown ten feet away. So far, so good.

Just as they had expected the battle robot was heading towards them, towering over the humans who were now fleeing in disorder, eating up the distance with huge strides. Jack lowered the binoculars and accepted the M136 rocket launcher from Daniel. General Hammond had come through big time in response to Jack's request for supplies.

Daniel moved away and readied his own P-90. Jack had warned Sharwyn's group of the dangers of the back-blast but he still checked behind him before he disengaged the safeties and cocked the M136. With that done he centered the sights on the robot's chest, waited until it had closed to about fifty yards, and then pressed the trigger button.

The 84mm projectile streaked through the air and impacted. It wouldn't have penetrated the frontal armor of a modern tank but the robot, although impressive, had been designed only to shrug off the blows of swords and axes and the fierce but un-concentrated heat of Fireball spells. The shaped-charge warhead blew through the steel and tore the robot apart. The chest exploded, the arms and head fell off, and the legs and hips of the robot stood for a moment and then toppled to the ground.

Behind the robot the giant, who had been advancing with a colossal hammer raised to strike, wavered and fell back. The human survivors of the catapult crews fled.

"Now that was impressive," Tomi commented, as he approached Jack from the side. "Good thing you warned us not to stand behind you or I'd be nothing but a pair of smoking boots."

"The other one won't be so easy," Jack said. "We only had the one rocket launcher and the grenades probably won't have anything like the same effect."

"Chewed up the mangonel pretty good, though, and I don't think the crews will stop running this side of Port Llast," Tomi said. He lifted up his magic gem and peered through it. "They haven't left anyone invisible behind."

"Good to know," said Jack. "That's funny. I thought the other, uh, golem would be charging right over but it's not. It's backing off."

"They can't think for themselves," Tomi said, "so the wizard controlling it must have pulled it back. He wouldn't want it to go the same way and he's not going to know you don't have another of those blast weapons."

"Yeah, it's backed right off," Jack said. He scanned the robot's surroundings through the binoculars. "Backed off as if it's protecting something. A house."

"Probably where the wizard's holed up," Tomi said. "Mind you, the golem will be back in action soon enough when we move out to destroy the catapults."

"So we get rid of it first," Jack said, "or, better still, we get rid of the wizard."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

They bypassed the guardian golem by going in through the house next door. It was occupied by Luskan troops and they were tough professional soldiers. Jack didn't want the sound of gunshots to warn the wizard of impending danger and so there was a fierce hand-to-hand struggle before the Luskans fell.

With the opposition out of the way Jack laid C4 charges against the dividing wall. Everyone backed as far away as possible, and took cover, and then Jack blew the charges.

When the smoke and dust cleared there was a hole in the wall big enough for three people to pass through simultaneously. "Wait!" Jack commanded. The range was too short for an M79 grenade to arm and so he tossed in a hand grenade. Only when the explosion sounded did he give the word to go in.

The room in which they found themselves was dominated by a mighty being. A 'demon', it had to be, it couldn't be anything else. Twice as tall as a man, red-skinned, horned, and with wings like a bat. Flames flickered on its skin and it brandished a whip and a massive sword.

Sam gave it a burst with her P-90 but the bullets simply bounced off. Cierre sheathed her flaming sword, drew the green-bladed one instead, and closed with the demon.

"Ignore the balor, just kill the wizard," Sharwyn advised from just behind Jack. The wizard in question was on his knees on the floor, beside a severely damaged desk and chair, trying to pull himself upright. His robe was torn and bloody.

"Sure thing," Jack said. The M79 was hampering his access to the P-90 and so he drew his handgun instead. He fired twice at the wizard's head just as Sam let loose with another burst from her P-90. The wizard took multiple hits and sprawled lifeless on the floor. Instantly the demon vanished.

"A summoned creature goes back to where it came from if you kill the summoner," Sharwyn explained. "I could have banished it with a song, of course, but this was quicker."

"Fascinating," Daniel said.

"Now how come I knew you were going to say that?" Jack asked.

"Are you saying I'm predictable, Jack?"

"I'm saying that if Pavlov rang his bell you'd say 'Fascinating', Daniel," Jack replied.

"I do not know who 'Pavlov' is but it is indeed the case that you say 'Fascinating' extremely often, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c agreed.

Daniel pouted. "Indeed?"

Sharwyn and Tomi had immediately begun to check out the wizard's corpse and desk. "Now this really is fascinating," Sharwyn announced. She held aloft a sheet of paper. "Instructions to the wizard telling him how to get to Aribeth and Maugrim."

"Jackpot," Jack said, grinning.

"There's a catch," Sharwyn said. She read aloud from the paper. "It says 'Beware the Balor, for he guards the entrance to Maugrim's Sanctuary and will kill all trespassers.' We can't kill Maugrim until we've already got past the demon and it sounds as if it's here long-term and not just summoned. I might not be able to banish it. We might have to do this the hard way."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

The smoke from the grenade explosion cleared away. The nearby buildings had suffered shattered windows and shrapnel-pitted walls but the balor stood completely unharmed. Sharwyn's rendition of '_Get Back_' also had failed to have any effect.

"Oh, bugger!" Sharwyn swore.

"It is, then, up to you and me, Daelan Red Tiger," Cierre said. "Alas, Angurvadal's flames are useless against a balor and the Blade of the Gladiator's enchantment is comparatively weak." She drew her hand-axe, and the green-bladed sword, and advanced. Daelan strode forward at her side.

"You cannot stand against me, puny humans," the demon roared, "but if you give me your women I shall allow the men to flee unharmed." It cracked a multi-thonged whip and swung its flaming sword.

"Blow it out your ear," Jack replied. Teal'c removed his P-90, drew the two-handed sword that he was still carrying as a reserve weapon, and went to join Cierre and Daelan.

"There is something I could try," Sharwyn muttered. "Shar, guide my hands." Her fingers danced across her guitar strings and she began to sing once more.

"_Angel came down from heaven here today,_

_She stayed with me long enough_

_To rescue me…_"

The shadows in the alleyway, cast by the buildings on the sunward side, seemed to move. They swirled, formed into a humanoid shape, and stood up. Suddenly a female figure was standing there.

She was pale of skin, mother-of-pearl white rather than European pink, and had light blue hair. Her face was stunningly beautiful. She stood some seven feet tall and had wings of dove-grey feathers. Twin swords hung from her waist belt.

The rest of her appearance was somewhat less angelic. She wore skin-tight leather pants, a purple top that clung to her body tightly enough to show off her nipples, and an open black leather jacket decorated with metal studs and hanging chains. If it wasn't for the wings she would have looked perfectly at home on the back of a chopped Harley Davidson.

Sharwyn's fingers faltered on her guitar strings. "Lady Egeria!" she exclaimed, her tone reverent, and she dropped to her knees.

"Egeria?" Daniel echoed. Jack recognized the name too. Egeria had been the founder and Queen of the Tok'ra but had been captured by Ra, and presumed executed, somewhere around 700 BC. Jack could remember Daniel droning on about her having passed into legend, as some sort of nymph, but he didn't recall any mention of her having had wings.

"The Herald of Shar," Sharwyn explained. A coincidence of name, presumably, and this wasn't the missing Tok'ra Queen. "The right hand of my goddess."

The balor turned away from Cierre and Daelan and stared at the newcomer. Its face resembled a skull but it was still possible to see that the demon was frowning. "A mere Shard of Selûne? And you think you can challenge _me_?"

"If I still served the Truce-breaker then perhaps not," the angel replied, "but I serve Shar and I've been tutored in swordplay by Eilistraee herself. Bring it on, skull-face, let's dance."

The balor roared and swung its sword. Egeria drew her swords so quickly that Jack didn't even see her hands move. She parried, riposted, and carved a bloody gouge across the demon's chest.

Cierre and Daelan scrambled back out of the way. Teal'c would have gone to the angel's assistance but the other two grabbed him, lifted him bodily off his feet, and carried him off.

"We'd only get in her way," Cierre said. "Just leave her to it."

It was soon clear that Egeria didn't need any help. She cut the balor to pieces with a succession of blindingly fast sword strokes. When, eventually, the demon managed to tangle one of her sword-blades with its whip Egeria leapt up into the air, kicked the demon in the face hard enough to send it staggering backwards, and then when the balor tugged on its whip she went forward with the pull and drove her sword to the hilt into the balor's torso. It uttered a hissing shriek of agony, a sound something between a steam boiler's safety valve blowing and a railway locomotive applying its brakes at full speed, and fell to its knees. Egeria's other sword swept across in a blur of motion and sliced through the balor's neck.

Egeria pulled her sword from the balor's chest and kicked the body away to join the head on the alley floor. She flicked demon blood from the blades and sheathed the swords. She turned to face the humans and smiled.

"Okay, I've rescued you," she said, "and according to the song I'm supposed to stay long enough to tell you a story. I'm afraid 'the sweet love between the moon and the deep blue sea' isn't really a suitable topic for me any longer. Any other requests?"

"Uh, I, uh," Sharwyn mumbled. She seemed to be overcome with awe. Jack guessed that to her this was pretty much like a star of the Christian Rock scene having a personal encounter with the Angel Gabriel.

"Are you really an angel?" Daniel asked.

"Indeed so," Egeria confirmed. "Some might quibble with that designation, saying that only the Powers of Good can have angels in their service, and Shar was formerly Evil and is now a Power of Neutrality, but, frankly, they can go fuck themselves."

Jack raised an eyebrow. That wasn't the sort of language he'd expect to hear from an angel; other than, of course, a Hells Angel.

Daniel pursed his lips. "Uh, are you an Ascended Being?"

"I am," Egeria said. "Sixteen hundred years ago I was human. I'm not willing to answer any further personal questions."

"I'm guessing you're not the same Egeria as the one who was on our planet, then," Jack said.

"A co-incidence of name, nothing more," Egeria said. She tilted her head to one side. "She lives still."

"What?" Daniel's eyes opened very wide. "Egeria of the Tok'ra isn't dead? Where is she?"

"A prisoner," Egeria said, "and her time draws short. I too have been a prisoner and I feel sympathy for my namesake. When you find her – and you will – then call me. Speak in shadow and I will hear."

"You can't just leave it there," Daniel protested. "If you know that much you have to know where she is."

"There are others, in the realms beyond Toril, who would regard me telling you more as interference," Egeria said. "Let what I have told you be enough. Do not press the issue and anger me. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

Jack raised his eyebrows. Was this agent of an alien goddess really quoting from the old _The Incredible Hulk_ TV show? Although Egeria spoke forcefully, obviously serious about answering no further questions on that subject, there might just be a twinkle in her blue eyes. Maybe she was quoting. Or else, like Sharwyn, she had picked up the phrases via the previous visitors from Earth without knowing anything about the original shows or movies.

Sharwyn had found her voice. "Lady Egeria," she said, "is there anything that you can tell me that would further our quest to slay Maugrim and defeat his mistress Morag?"

"There is," Egeria answered. "First, remember that Aribeth is not corrupted beyond hope. Perhaps she can be returned to innocence. She has burned her bridges with Tyr, and the Wall awaits her, yet she acted out of the pain of loss. That puts her in Shar's domain and, if she so pleads, my Mistress will accept her into the fold and spare her that dread fate."

"Return to innocence," Sharwyn said quietly. She gave a sudden broad smile. "I shall remember, my Lady."

"Second, when time seems to pass by too fast, remember – rush."

Jack frowned. That seemed to be the sort of incomprehensible advice that Oma Desala would dish out. He glanced at Daniel, who seemed to be equally baffled, and then at Sharwyn. The singer's smile had grown even broader.

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "Thank you again, Lady Egeria."

"Third," Egeria went on, "to slay Morag you must leave her until last."

Sharwyn's smile disappeared. "I don't understand, Lady."

"I do," Cierre put in. "No doubt she draws power from her followers, or else she can transfer herself into them if her own body is slain. Kill the others first and her power will be lessened. I have heard of such things before."

"Of course," Sharwyn said, and she slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Like when Sorkatani fought Aec'Letec."

Egeria nodded fractionally. "Lastly," she said, and her gaze was fixed on Cierre as she spoke, "put not your trust in the gratitude of princes. Keep in mind that two can swing from a gallows as easily as one and remember the fate of Fenthick."

"I swore a vow," Cierre replied, "and I will not break it even at the cost of my life."

"True," said Egeria, "but your vow made no mention of hanging around afterwards, did it?"

Cierre's lips twitched into the tight smile that Jack had seen several times before. "In neither sense of the word. I shall bear your warning in mind, Herald of Shar."

"That would be wise," Egeria said. She crouched down slightly and tensed her leg muscles. "I have tarried here long enough. 'Scuse me while I kiss the sky." She leapt upwards, flapping her wings, and accelerated rapidly away. In a matter of seconds she was out of sight.

"Damn," Jack said. "I was going to ask her how come Lady Cold Circle's healing spells didn't work on Teal'c."

"That's impossible," Sharwyn said. "They simply accelerate the body's natural repair processes. Someone who did not respond to healing spells would never heal from injury. He could die from a trivial cut."

"Ah," said Jack. "That explains it."

"Sir," Sam said, looking up into the sky at where Egeria had disappeared, "you realize that, when we get back to the SGC and make our reports, General Hammond is going to have us all locked up for psychiatric evaluation?"

"It wouldn't be the first time," Daniel muttered.

"What, just because we've met an angel who seems to be a Jimi Hendrix fan?" Jack shook his head. "On this planet's scale of weirdness that doesn't even rate a three. Anyway, she's gone now. We'd better get back to the mission. There should be one of those ring transporter equivalents at the far end of this alley."

"I see the portal," Tomi said. "It is disguised but I can point it out to you."

"Good," said Jack. "We're within striking distance of Maugrim. Payback time."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

Disclaimer: songs quoted in this chapter are 'Snowballed' by AC/DC, 'Angel' by Jimi Hendrix, and 'Purple Haze' by Jimi Hendrix. The lyrics of 'Angel' were minutely changed to fit the required timescale. Lyrics are used without the permission of the copyright holders. No ownership is claimed and there is no intent to profit from their use.


	6. For those about to rock

**Chapter Six**

**For those about to rock...  
**

"When we go through the portal I believe that we shall be confronted by Aribeth," Sharwyn said. "Perhaps in company with Maugrim but it is probable that she will be guarding his inner sanctum. Lady Egeria told me of a way that I might be able to bring Aribeth back to her original loyalties and I intend to try."

"So she was on your side originally?" Jack had gathered that was the case, from the woman in question's words when he had met her with Maugrim, and from what the angel Egeria had said earlier, but he wanted to make sure he had the story straight.

"She was," Sharwyn confirmed. "She was the leader of Lord Nasher's elite bodyguards, the Neverwinter Nine, and there was none more dedicated to the service of Neverwinter than Aribeth. Unfortunately her fiancé Fenthick was duped into aiding Maugrim's servant Desther and was executed for his part in the conspiracy, unintentional though it was, and that turned Aribeth against us."

"I can't really blame her for that," Jack said, "although her choice of allies leaves a lot to be desired."

Sharwyn grimaced. "Lord Nasher was wrong to execute Fenthick. The mob was baying for blood, however, and he could not summon the will to oppose the people. He feared that there would be riots if they did not see harsh justice done and, in the aftermath of the plague, he would not risk civil disorder on top of everything else. Yet Aribeth's defection was far worse."

"And you still think you can bring her back on side?"

"Lady Egeria assured me that it is possible," Sharwyn said, "and I owe it to Aribeth to try. She was my friend once."

"Your loyalty is admirable," Teal'c said. "I approve."

"Thank you," Sharwyn said. She ran her fingers along the neck of her guitar. "I am confident that I can do it, but if she realizes what I'm doing she'll try to stop me, and I'll need your help holding her off until it takes effect."

"My zat'ni'ktel would have greatly simplified the task," Teal'c remarked. "Without it we will be forced to rely upon physical combat. It will be no easy matter to subdue her, without harming her, if she is indeed as mighty a warrior as you say."

Jack winced. "My fault," he said. "I completely forgot to ask General Hammond to send us a replacement zat."

"Do not blame yourself, O'Neill," Teal'c said. "I heard your radio conversation and it did not occur to me to remind you. Indeed the rocket launcher was of greater importance. A zat'ni'ktel would have been useless against the metal automaton."

"She's probably the one who has our zat," Daniel said. "Either her or Maugrim."

"Maugrim," Sam said. "Evil Overlord types always go for the knock-out, rather than the kill, so that they can gloat."

"Which means Aribeth will have the staff weapon," Daniel predicted.

"You're probably right," Jack said. "Or Maugrim will have both of them, so that he can capture us, do his gloating, and then incinerate us."

"What's a zat?" Tomi asked.

"It shoots a ray that knocks out anyone it hits," Jack explained.

"Oh, like a Wand of Paralyzation," Tomi said. "I had one of those but I sold it. Too easy to counter."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "You can resist such a weapon?"

"No problem," Tomi said. "Got a Cloak of Freedom, ain't I?"

"I have a Ring of Power that grants me the same immunity," Cierre said, her lips twisting in a bitter grimace. "A last gift from Lady Cold Circle."

"And I have a permanent Free Action spell on myself," Sharwyn said, "and I can cast the spell on others if required."

"Are you sure it would protect us against the zat?" Daniel asked. "It doesn't work on the same principles as the, uh, spells that you're used to."

"Without doubt," Sharwyn said. "I can negate all types of paralysis whether divine, arcane, or mechanical. Only physical injury could hold me in place, or render me unconscious, and I can bestow the same immunities upon you for about ten minutes at a time."

"A second shot from a zat kills," Jack pointed out.

"Someone who is held immobile cannot defend himself against his throat being slit," Sharwyn said, "and so in practice there would seem to be little difference in the effectiveness. Would a second shot kill someone who has resisted the effect of the first shot?"

Jack shrugged his shoulders. "Teal'c, you're the resident expert."

"I do not know," Teal'c admitted. "I am not aware of any protection against a hit by a zat'ni'ktel other than a force screen, or protective armor, that prevents the beam from reaching the body. I cannot speak with certainty about the effectiveness of a second shot if the first is neutralized rather than blocked."

"If the first is neutralized then the second would be starting from scratch," Sam said. "I would think that, as long as the neutralizing, uh, spell was working you could just shrug off any number of zat blasts."

"Hmm." Jack sucked in his bottom lip and bit on it. "I think I know a way to use Maugrim's ego against him. Cierre, you mentioned…" Jack paused, realizing that he was going to bring up something that would be a sore point for both Cierre and Daelan, but then decided that it had to be said. "When you fought Kenadi you faked being paralyzed by her sword. If Maugrim zaps us we do the same thing. Play statues, wait for him to do his whole gloating spiel, and then we waste the sucker. I was worried about that intangibility thing he does but I can't imagine any Evil Overlord doing the 'grovel before my magnificence' schtick when he's basically a ghost. He'll turn solid, I'll bet on it, and then we blow him away."

"He can do Hold Person spells anyway," Sharwyn pointed out. "Your 'zat' would be of little additional use to him. He may have kept it anyway, as a weapon from another world would have a prestige value out of proportion to its utility, but it would be more sensible for him to give it to one who has no such abilities. Aribeth, probably, but perhaps to whatever commander will head the assault upon Castle Never. I believe that Maugrim would love to take Lord Nasher alive."

"That doesn't change the plan," Jack said. "Whether he zaps us with the zat, or uses his, uh, spells, we play the same game. Of course that only applies if he's light on minions. No way am I going to risk any of us getting captured for real and ending up in his dungeons again. I bet Vhonna wasn't the only psycho torturer on his staff." Jack wouldn't have wished what the High Priestess of Loviatar had put them through on a Goa'uld System Lord and he was really, really, determined never to fall into the hands of another one of the crazy priestesses.

"Indeed," said Teal'c. "Our continued freedom must be our primary consideration above all others."

"Damn right," Jack said, "and also us not getting killed. I'll play along with your scheme to try to get, uh, Aribeth back on side, Sharwyn, but only as long as it doesn't risk our lives."

Sharwyn nodded. "That is fair enough, Colonel O'Neill. My life is important to me also." She played a brief snatch of music and sang along to it. "…_Stay alive_…"

The song sounded vaguely familiar to Jack, probably something he'd heard a long time ago, but he couldn't place it. He approved of the sentiment. "Exactly." A thought occurred to him. "And if that thing where you get silenced happens to you again then all bets are off."

"I can dispel it," Sharwyn said, "but I have to cast Vocalize and then play sections of two songs. It takes about thirty seconds and there isn't usually time in a battle. Easier to just switch over to my two-bladed sword and close with the enemy. Especially if it's Silence 15-foot Radius, as it was last time, and if I can get close to their wizards or priests it backfires on them. Your reminder is timely, though, and I shall cast Free Action upon us all now and then we can enter the portal." She raised her guitar and began to play.

"_If I leave here tomorrow_

_Would you still remember me?_

_For I must be traveling on now_

'_Cause there's too many places I've got to see…_"

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

The portal led to a small room, empty and with walls of bare stone except for one door, which was obviously used for nothing except the portal. The eight members of the group filled it almost to capacity. Jack was fervently glad that he had turned down Hammond's offer of an additional two SG teams. It would have been like sharing an elevator with the starting line-up of the Chicago Bears.

Jack had ended up right next to Cierre. From the expression on her face it was obvious that her personal space was sacrosanct, Jack was inside it, and she wasn't happy. He made sure that he didn't get any closer to her than necessary. Luckily the door opened outward and they could open it without any need for any further squashing together.

Beyond the door lay a much larger room. It was also pretty much nothing but bare stone. A defaced statue, about the only thing in the room that could be described as furnishings, indicated that the place probably rightfully belonged to somebody Maugrim didn't like very much. The corpses that lay on the floor, and the two bodies fastened to X-shaped crosses with their dead mouths gaping open as if they had died screaming, implied that the property acquisition had been recent and violent.

The room wasn't unoccupied. Aribeth, as they had expected, awaited them there. What they hadn't expected was that she was holding the last of the missing P-90s and aiming it directly at them.

"Come no further," Aribeth commanded.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "You realize that if you pull that trigger you'll be dead inside a second? You might get one or two of us but we'll fill you with more holes than a fishing net."

"My armor is proof against your weapons," Aribeth declared. "We have tested this."

"And it doesn't cover your face," Jack riposted, "and we've had a hell of a lot more practice at shooting than you. We'll give you several extra eyes before you can blink. Anyway," he added, moving the muzzle of his M79 slightly, "we brought a bigger gun." The grenade launcher was currently loaded with an M576 buckshot round for close-quarters anti-personnel use. It lacked the penetrating power of the 5.7mm P-90 ammunition, and would bounce off the armor, but Aribeth wasn't going to know that and the huge muzzle aperture was definitely intimidating.

"Perhaps my life is less important to me than yours is to you," Aribeth replied.

"Maybe," Jack said, "but I'm betting you're still not going to throw your life away for nothing. Right now we have a stand-off."

Sharwyn had moved across to one side of the group, moving slowly so as not to provoke Aribeth into firing, and now she began to caress the strings of her guitar. She opened her mouth and began to chant, wordlessly, producing a sound that reminded Jack very much of Native American music.

Aribeth's gaze flicked towards Sharwyn. "Whatever you are trying will not work," she said. "I am heavily warded against all forms of magic."

Sharwyn ignored her and continued to chant.

"It doesn't matter if she carries on, then, does it?" Jack said, hoping that Sharwyn had allowed for Aribeth's protections when she'd come up with her plan.

Aribeth did not reply directly. "You," she said to Cierre, "the Drow freak. You killed Kenadi."

"And you betrayed her cause," Cierre responded. "Which of us has hurt her most?"

"_Love_," Sharwyn sang, quiet chords now coming from her guitar, "_Devotion…_"

"Hey," Jack put in, seeing a chance to stall Aribeth further without the need for any actual fighting, "what's with so many people calling Cierre a 'freak'? She seems perfectly normal to me. Okay, so she has pointy ears, but so have you. I'm guessing it isn't all that out of the ordinary on this planet. Is it because she has black skin? We have a word for people who object to other people because of their skin color, and it's 'racist'. Not a good thing where I come from."

"_Feeling_," Sharwyn continued, "_Emotion…_

_Don't be afraid to be weak_

_Don't be too proud to be strong…_"

"Can you not see?" Aribeth raised her eyebrows. "You must not know the Drow. They are a small people, shorter than me by several inches, and Cierre towers over all others of her race like a giant."

"_Just look into your heart, my friend,_

_That will be the return to yourself_

_The return to innocence…_"

"It is how I came to live on the surface," Cierre explained. "I tired of the taunts, the abuse, and the scorn. I knew that I would face prejudice here but, foolishly, I thought that by showing that I was not like other Drow I would overcome that prejudice."

"You never will," Aribeth taunted. "My people hate and despise yours. The followers of Eilistraee will never accept a worshipper of Auril. The humans are savage brutes who will turn on you as they did on Fenthick. You will always be alone."

Cierre shrugged. "I'm a ranger. I like solitude."

"They will cast you out and you will face eternal solitude whether you wish it or no," Aribeth continued.

Sharwyn had returned to chanting for a while and was now singing again. Jack vaguely recognized the song, something to do with the Atlanta Olympics if he recalled correctly, and he thought he understood what Sharwyn was trying to do. It didn't seem to be working. If anything Aribeth was becoming more hostile and angrier.

"_If you want then start to laugh_

_If you must then start to cry_

_Be yourself don't hide_

_Just believe in destiny._

_Don't care what people say_

_Just follow your own way_

_Don't give up and lose the chance_

_To return to innocence…_"

Aribeth's face twisted in sudden rage. "Stop that!" she yelled at Sharwyn. "You can change nothing! I am damned, beyond all redemption, and I care not. Stop it or I will stop you!" She turned the gun to aim at Sharwyn.

"Put the gun down," Jack ordered. With Aribeth's gaze turned away from him he had taken the opportunity to raise the M79 and take careful aim. "Otherwise I'll blow your head clean off your shoulders."

Aribeth made no move to comply. "Go ahead, then. Slay me."

"That's what she wants," Cierre said. "To die." She took a step forward and raised her sword. "Perhaps, though, there is something else she wants more. Am I right, surface elf? A chance to assuage your guilt, by punishing the one who struck the fatal blow against your friend, so that you can pretend to yourself that it wasn't you who was truly responsible for her death? I offer you that chance. Put down your 'gun' and face me with your sword."

"She will kill you, Drow," Daelan warned.

"So you say," Cierre replied. "I have faced opponents more skilled than myself before. Yet I still live."

"For the moment," Aribeth said. She bent and laid her P-90 down on the floor. Jack was tempted to just shoot her there and then; however he had promised Sharwyn he'd try her way first and he didn't want to go back on his word. He could always shoot Aribeth later, if Sharwyn gave up, and hopefully Cierre could stay alive until then.

Aribeth drew her sword. It glowed red, in a similar fashion to Cierre's sword, and it was… big. Not as big as the two-handed sword Teal'c still carried but, in proportion to her size, it was almost a match. Aribeth, however, wielded her sword one-handed. A small shield was strapped to her left arm. She was clad in full plate armor, gleaming black and segmented like a lobster, whereas Cierre wore only ordinary clothes and a lightweight leather jerkin. If Jack hadn't seen Cierre's devastating skill and speed in action he would have said that she stood no chance. Of course he'd never seen Aribeth in a fight.

Cierre advanced, slowly and cautiously, and Aribeth rushed to meet her. Aribeth struck first, her sword hissing through the air at blinding speed, and Cierre parried. Blow after blow followed in dizzying succession. It was soon evident that Cierre was fighting defensively, making no serious attempt to strike in earnest, and perhaps because of that she was managing to hold Aribeth at bay.

Sharwyn's song had slowed right down and she was now reciting a spoken passage with minimal instrumental accompaniment.

"_That's not the beginning of the end_

_That's the return to yourself_

_The return to innocence…_"

Aribeth screamed. As Sharwyn's fingers accelerated on her strings, and the tune became a dazzlingly fast instrumental passage where she somehow achieved the effect of a heavily distorted electric guitar, Aribeth launched a succession of blows, almost too quick for the eye to follow, that battered Cierre's defenses until they gave way. Cierre's sword flew from her hand and sailed across the room. She leapt away, her hand going to the hilt of her spare sword, but Aribeth followed up and delivered a mighty blow, holding her sword-hilt with both hands, and caught Cierre with the sword half-drawn. The blades clashed and Cierre's second sword went flying. Aribeth released the sword with her left hand and bashed her shield into Cierre's face. Cierre went down. She lay on her back on the floor, unmoving and apparently dazed, and Aribeth raised her sword for a finishing blow.

Teal'c dropped his gun and threw himself forward in a dive. He struck Aribeth with his shoulder, ramming into her just above the hip, and smashed her from her feet. They landed on the stone floor and grappled. Aribeth fought to get her sword-arm free. Teal'c battled to keep it pinned. Impossibly the elf woman, a foot shorter than Teal'c and a fraction of his weight, seemed to be matching him for strength. They rolled over the stone flags, locked together, with Teal'c unable to pin and immobilize her. Neither was Aribeth able to free her sword-arm from Teal'c's grip.

Sharwyn was performing another chanting chorus of her song. Jack hoped it would achieve the desired effect soon; obviously the song was doing something, Aribeth's reaction proved that, but not what they wanted. Aribeth's sword, waving at random as the two grapplers rolled over the floor, made going to Teal'c's aid hazardous. Daelan moved forward, his double-axe poised, but the constantly-changing positions of the combatants gave him no clear target. Jack turned to go to Cierre's assistance but saw that Sam had beaten him to it and was helping Cierre to rise.

Sharwyn completed one final section of chanting, struck a chord that seemed to hang in the air and died away only very slowly, and half spoke, half sang, one final line.

"_It's the return to innocence_."

Aribeth released her grip on her sword. It fell away onto the floor even as Teal'c, taken by surprise as Aribeth's resistance suddenly ceased, slammed her gauntleted hand down onto the flagstones with all his might. The impact cracked the stone and undoubtedly did fearful damage to the hand inside the gauntlet.

"I yield!" Aribeth gasped out.

Teal'c was drawing back his fist for a blow; he stopped, as he realized what was happening, and let go of Aribeth's wrist. He disentangled his legs from Aribeth's and rose to his feet.

Sharwyn let her guitar hang on its straps and raised a hand to wipe her brow. "Whew!" she gasped. "That took a lot out of me. She wasn't kidding when she said she was heavily warded. I thought I was never going to break through."

Aribeth struggled to rise, hampered by her damaged hand, and Teal'c assisted her. "Thank you," she said. She looked at her hand. "It is broken and I can no longer heal myself. My god has rejected me."

Daelan proffered her a potion flask. She took it, struggled for a moment before managing to get the top off one-handed, and drank. "Thank you," she said again, flexing her fingers as she spoke. "You have brought me back to my senses," she said to Sharwyn, "yet it is all to no avail. Neverwinter's fall is now inevitable. I have seen it in my dreams. It shall disappear in fire when the Old Ones return."

"I've seen a lot of things in my dreams," Jack said, "including a nine-foot talking tube of toothpaste chasing me through the SGC, Senator Kinsey being eaten alive by rabid weasels, and Mary Steenburgen giving me a lap-dance. It doesn't mean any of them are going to happen."

Sam said something, under her breath, too quietly for Jack to hear. He could guess, however, but it was too late to revise his comment.

"I know that Neverwinter shall fall," Aribeth insisted. "It cannot hope to stand against the power of the Old Ones."

"Is that why you joined Maugrim? To be on the winning side?" Jack asked.

"My heart was empty after the… judicial murder of Fenthick," Aribeth said. "Everything seemed dark and hopeless and my service to Neverwinter was but a hollow sham. Morag came to me in my dreams and offered me revenge and, in my despair, I accepted."

"I can understand wanting revenge," Sharwyn said, "and I can even understand you ditching your stern and unforgiving god, but did you have to sign up with a bunch of fucking lizards? Shar would have welcomed you with open arms. The goddess of darkness, despair, and loss was right there in front of you and you didn't even look."

"What would you know of despair and loss?" Aribeth retorted.

Sharwyn's hand rose half-way up as if poised for a slap and her voice acquired a hard edge. "I miscarried and then my husband walked out on me for a prettier woman. I was twelve hundred miles from home and alone. Tell me again that I don't know about despair and loss."

Jack's eyebrows climbed. Sharwyn's husband had left her for a prettier woman? He glanced across at his comrades and saw that Daniel's eyebrows had also soared, as had Sam's, and Teal'c had raised both his eyebrows in an almost unprecedented show of astonishment. And, as well as the motive being difficult to believe, anyone who would walk out on their wife in those circumstances had to be a total bastard. Of course, with what Sharwyn could do with her songs and that two-bladed sword-staff thing, he was probably a total bastard with no genitals and who had fallen 'in to a burning ring of fire' or something similar.

"He is a man without honor," Daelan stated.

Teal'c nodded agreement. "Indeed."

"He still down in Athkatla, is he, love?" Tomi enquired. He was toying with his fifteen-inch dagger and something about his eyes gave away very clearly that, for all his diminutive size, he was a ruthless and deadly killer.

"Yes," Sharwyn said, "and he has already been given cause to regret his actions." Yep, Ring of Fire.

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

Aribeth held out her belt, a broad band of black leather decorated with dark metal studs, to Cierre. "Fire Giant Strength," she said. "Take it and use it well."

Cierre stretched out her hand but hesitated before taking the belt. "It is better than Daelan's belt," she said, "and Teal'c has none at all. Perhaps it should go to one of them. Teal'c, I would say, for he came to my rescue and held you off when you would have slain me."

Teal'c shook his head. "I saw you pass up an opportunity to strike a killing blow," he said. Jack hadn't seen it but he was prepared to accept Teal'c's word; the former First Prime knew far more about close combat with lethal weapons than Jack even wanted to know. "To do so in such circumstances, at the risk of your life, was an act of bravery and honor. The prize of battle should go to you."

Cierre dipped her head. "Your kind words please me, male. You are a true warrior and your praise is good for my heart." She accepted the belt from Aribeth and held it with one hand while she unbuckled her existing belt with the other. She passed the old belt to Teal'c. "This is a Girdle of Hill Giant Strength," she told him. "I would estimate that it will increase your strength by roughly an eighth. Perhaps a little less."

"I thought those magic belts made the wearer as strong as the giant they're named after," Daniel commented, as Teal'c took the belt and buckled it on.

"That used to be the case," Sharwyn said, "but the magic was changed a couple of years ago as part of an agreement between Shar and Mystra. You must have read something slightly out of date."

Jack hadn't noticed Daniel reading anything, apart from the guide to the local religions that he'd been given by Kenadi and had read in the dungeon, but it didn't surprise him that Daniel had picked up something else; he seemed to be able to acquire books by some sort of osmosis. "Discuss it some other time," Jack ordered. "We still have to deal with Maugrim."

"Too right," Tomi chipped in.

"The Free Action will have worn off by now," Sharwyn said. "I had better cast it again before we confront him."

"I'm surprised he hasn't come out here," Jack said, glancing at the heavy doors at the far end of the room. "I'd have thought he'd have heard you singing, plus all the noise we made during the fight."

"Nah," Tomi said. "This is the Temple of Helm, or used to be. Walls are two feet thick and the doors are bloody great planks of solid oak." Sharwyn raised an eyebrow and Tomi grinned. "Recognize the place from when I nicked half their silverware," the little man admitted.

"Only half?" Sharwyn's eyebrow was joined by the other one and both climbed higher.

"They were using the other half at the time," Tomi said. "I'm good, but not that good."

"Then those bodies are those of the genuine priests of Helm," Daelan deduced. He turned a stern gaze on Aribeth. "They are newly dead. Your doing?"

Aribeth lowered her eyes to stare at the floor. "I… I… yes," she confessed. "They had served their purpose, Maugrim said, and I slew these ones. The others he took into the inner chamber for the sacrifice."

"What?" Jack jerked to attention. "You mean while we've been standing around talking to you he's been killing people? Maybe they're still alive."

"It was an hour or more ago," Aribeth said. "They will be long dead."

"Sacrifice?" Sharwyn's eyes narrowed. "What was its purpose?"

"Morag gains strength from deaths," Aribeth said. "Maugrim told me that one final sacrifice was all that was needed to open the way for her return. She will burst forth at the head of her armies and Neverwinter shall be consumed in fire."

"Which hasn't happened yet," Sharwyn said, "so either it takes more than an hour or the sacrifice wasn't enough. I thought Maugrim needed the Words of Power to release her? We recovered three out of the four, and delivered them to Aarin Gend, so Maugrim can't be using them. He only has one."

"He needs them to enter her realm," Aribeth replied, "but not to bring her forth into this one."

"It sounds as if the Words are a Gate address," Daniel mused, "or function in a similar way."

"If the point of origin is known then that's a possibility," Sam said, "but it would be an inter-dimensional shift rather than traveling through space. Would four points, plus the point of origin, be enough for that?"

"That's your department, not mine," Daniel replied. "I don't see why not."

"Hmm. If point A represents…" Sam began.

Jack didn't let her continue. "The 'how' doesn't matter," he pointed out. "The important thing is the same as it always is. To kill the bad guy and stop his plans, whatever they are, before they get anywhere." He pointed at the door that, presumably, led to Maugrim. "I propose we start off by tossing in a few grenades and then shoot the crap out of anyone still alive."

"A good plan, if the Helmites really are already dead," Sharwyn said, "but perhaps I'd better check first." She struck a series of hard, fast, chords on the guitar and broke into song.

"_I know you've deceived me now here's a surprise_

_I know that you have 'cos there's magic in my eyes_

_I can see for miles and miles and miles and miles and miles…_"

The Who. Jack could remember that song from when he had been in his early teens. It occurred to him that the guy called Giles, who had taught Sharwyn her songs, must be at least his own age. And had a pretty encyclopedic knowledge of rock music.

Sharwyn concluded her song with a flourish. She was frowning as she lowered the guitar. "The priests are indeed dead," she reported, "but they weren't the only prisoners. There's a young girl in there, tied up, but alive. She looks vaguely familiar – either someone I've seen before or a relative of someone I… know. Got it. She's Luce's kid sister."

"Luce from the Moonstone Mask?" Tomi asked.

Sharwyn nodded. "Yes, that Luce." She turned towards Jack. "That rules out your plan of throwing in one of your blast bombs."

"Yeah. Crap." Jack bit his lip. "Does Maugrim have Teal'c's staff weapon?" He'd already described it to the Neverwinter contingent.

"He does," Sharwyn confirmed. "There are five other cultists with him and also two… things. Flesh golems, I think, constructs made from the parts of corpses, although they might perhaps be zombie warriors. Either way they'll take a lot of damage before they go down."

"And we can't just open fire with everything we have, with a kid in there, so we'll have to stick to aimed single shots and short bursts." Jack tapped the butt of the M79 and frowned. "I figured this would give us an edge but it might be more of a liability. Unless you want to take it, Teal'c. You're probably the best out of all of us with a shotgun."

Teal'c nodded and extended his hand for the weapon. "I will fire only if I am sure of my target, O'Neill."

Jack handed over the M79, pulled the bandolier of ammunition over his head, and passed that over to Teal'c too. He didn't bother with any further warnings. Teal'c was utterly reliable.

Sharwyn was glaring at Aribeth. "You could have warned us," she said. "If I hadn't thought to do Clairvoyance we would have thrown explosives in there and killed the child."

"I assumed the brat would already be dead," Aribeth said. "In fact I had forgotten about it. I paid little attention to Maugrim's preparations for his ritual and it hardly registered on me when his men dragged in some street urchin. After all, everyone in Neverwinter is going to die anyway."

Jack thought that Sharwyn was going to slap her. He had pretty much the same impulse himself and a quick glance around confirmed that the feeling seemed to be pretty much universal in the group. It was hard to tell with Cierre; she was about as inscrutable as Teal'c, and her face wasn't giving much away, but a slight curl of her lip looked like scorn to Jack and when she spoke it confirmed his guess.

"Tell me again why I risked my life to capture this surface elf alive," Cierre said, the curl growing more pronounced and acid in every word.

She had a point, Jack thought. "Anything more you've forgotten to tell us?" he asked Aribeth.

"I don't think so," Aribeth replied. She hadn't reacted at all to Cierre's comment, which Jack thought was slightly odd, but he couldn't be bothered to probe further.

"It would help your case much more if you actually helped us against Maugrim, rather than just giving us your equipment," Sharwyn pointed out. "Stand with us and perhaps Lord Nasher will be merciful."

"I have nothing to live for," Aribeth said. "I will go to the gallows without fear. In death I will be reunited with Fenthick."

"You'll go to the Wall of the Faithless," Sharwyn warned, "or to the icy wastes of Cania if Tyr deems you a Betrayer. Your only way out is to turn to Shar, as you should have done in the first place."

Aribeth shook her head. "I will accept my deserved fate."

Sharwyn rolled her eyes. "If you're determined to be a martyr then carry on. We don't have time for more talk."

"Hang on a sec," Tomi said. "I want to know something more about Maugrim. Just what is he? He's been chucking arcane spells around, and divine spells, and I know he's been seen wearing armor. I thought he was using rods and wands for the wizard spells but he's been doing stuff that's beyond that. Unless he has some major artifact."

"He was a wizard, and a highly ranked one," Aribeth explained, "but became a priest in the service of the Old Ones. He retains his arcane powers still."

"Bugger," Tomi said. "He's going to be a tough nut to crack."

"Then," Jack said, "let's get to cracking."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

Beyond the door lay a library. Shelf upon shelf of books. Jack glanced at Daniel, ready to pull him away if he became distracted, but Daniel passed by the shelves without a pause. Not many things could keep Daniel's mind away from dusty old books but a kid in danger was one of them.

And beyond the library, through an archway, was Maugrim.

He saw them at the same moment they saw him. Their guns swung to the aim but the need to make sure they weren't going to hit the child slowed them down by just enough to make a vital difference. Sam put two shots through the chest and head of one of Maugrim's henchmen, and Tomi put a throwing knife into another's throat, but then Maugrim spoke two words and vanished.

Jack assumed Maugrim had gone invisible. He could see that he wasn't going to hit any kids and he pulled the trigger anyway, aiming at where he'd last seen Maugrim, hoping to hit him before he moved. The bullets passed harmlessly through the space Maugrim had occupied, hitting nothing, and ricocheted off a stone wall at the far end of the room. Jack ceased fire immediately and then saw Maugrim again.

He had moved all the way across the room in an impossibly short time and he had… changed. He had donned a steel helmet, he was shimmering and semi-transparent, and he was holding Teal'c's staff weapon. He was surrounded by blood-stained dead people, no doubt the priests who had been sacrificed, but they were rising to their feet. Zombies. And, most importantly, he was now kneeling behind a scared-looking kid.

"Silence!" he commanded, his gaze fixed on Sharwyn, and the tune she was beginning to play chopped off short in mid-note. "Drop your weapons!" Maugrim went on, addressing the rest of them.

Jack wasn't stupid enough to obey. The moment the weapons were on the floor they'd be at Maugrim's mercy – and he didn't have any. He aimed his P-90 at Maugrim's face but held his fire. There was enough of Maugrim showing above the kid to hit without killing the hostage, definitely, but he'd learned a few things about the way things worked on this planet and he knew his bullet wouldn't have any effect on the bastard. It would pass straight through, just like in the fight when SG-1 had been captured, and Maugrim would undoubtedly retaliate with the staff weapon.

It was a momentary stand-off. The edge was with Maugrim, however, because he didn't care what happened to his remaining minions, even the ones who were actually living humans, let alone the freakin' Undead. Five zombies plus two… things that were lurching across the room toward Jack and his companions.

"What the Hell are those?" Jack muttered, although he already knew the answer. Sharwyn had said something about 'flesh golems – constructs made out of parts of corpses' and that had to be what they were. Loose-jointed limbs, mismatched eyes, jaws lolling slackly, and long lines of stitches crossing every piece of exposed skin. They only needed bolts through their necks and Universal Pictures would be suing for infringement of their copyrighted Frankenstein's Monster design.

At least the human enemies weren't advancing. The sudden deaths of two of the henchmen seemed to have cooled the ardor of the others more than somewhat. The survivors were, if Jack read things right, busy taking measures to protect themselves. One guy in a pointy hat suddenly acquired three duplicates, decoy images presumably, and another's skin turned into some kind of grey mottled armor. Yeah, well, Jack knew the answer to that one. Put enough bullets into the guy and the armor would fail. And Jack had a _lot_ of bullets.

Jack's gaze passed over the bodies on the floor and he noticed something odd. The one with the knife in his throat was still twitching and the blood spilling onto the floor had traveled only a couple of inches. Jack's first thought, when Maugrim had managed to do so much in the blink of an eye, was that he'd somehow managed to stun everybody despite Sharwyn's protections. But if that was the case then he'd also stunned his own side, which didn't make sense, and how could he have slowed down the flow of blood from the dying men? It was more as if Maugrim had speeded himself up so that thirty or more seconds had passed for him while only one second elapsed for everyone else. Like the effect of the Atoniek bracelets only more so. Strange that he hadn't made more effective use of the time, such as bashing in some heads, but Jack wasn't going to object to an enemy making a mistake.

Maybe he could have done better but Maugrim still might have done enough. Between the hostage and that intangibility to bullets trick he was untouchable… for the moment. The 'spell' would run out. Also Sharwyn had said that she could get rid of a Silence given thirty seconds. Jack flicked a quick glance at the red-head and saw that she was indeed still playing and singing, although inaudibly, and all she needed was time. So, stall Maugrim. Jack could do that.

"Just explain one thing to me," Daniel said. "If you could use a human sacrifice to get where you want to go then why did you want us to show you how to use the Stargate?"

Okay, Daniel could do the stalling.

"I can understand why you wanted the guns," Daniel went on, "they were probably a big help to you getting through the Neverwinter defenses, but what use would Gate travel be? You're opening a Gate with human sacrifice, I gather, and I just don't see how the two methods of travel are compatible. I'd appreciate an explanation."

Maugrim fell for it, like nine out of ten Evil Overlords, and he stood up a little higher behind the little girl. "My Queen gains strength from the deaths of her enemies," he said, "and with this most recent sacrifice she will have sufficient power to open a gateway into this world. When she bursts forth the only safe place will be at her side. To reach her there I need all four Words of Power, and to control the Source Stone below Castle Never, or else to use the master portal at the Voice of the Lost. Only that one can…"

"…_of salesmen_," Sharwyn's voice suddenly rang out, accompanied by a crescendo from her guitar. "_Of salesmen_!"

"What? How did you…?" Maugrim gasped. He started to swing the staff weapon around to aim at Sharwyn. Daelan moved to shield Sharwyn with his own body.

Teal'c pulled the trigger of the M79. The head of the nearest of the flesh golems disintegrated, torn apart by the storm of buckshot, and Maugrim spun toward the source of the noise. He hesitated, caught between targets, and the staff weapon remained unfired.

Sharwyn segued from one tune into another, played a short riff, and then sang three words.

"_Time stand still…_"

An instant later Jack saw Sharwyn thirty feet from where she'd been standing, her guitar now slung over her back, and her leg blurring as she kicked Maugrim in the face. In a continuation of the move she snatched up the little girl and ran with her, off to the side, taking her out of the line of fire.

Maugrim staggered and almost fell. He steadied himself and stood up straight. He raised the staff weapon once more.

Jack grinned. Maugrim was no longer translucent and Sharwyn's kick confirmed that the intangibility trick had stopped working. "Showtime," he said, and opened fire.

Sam and Daniel let loose with their P-90s at the same time. Maugrim pirouetted briefly in a grotesque dance of death and then fell to the floor. One of his cultists charged at Daniel, raising a mace to strike, but Cierre intercepted him. Her sword lashed out and the man went down.

The remaining flesh golem underwent an astonishing transformation. Its stitched-together body wavered, changed shape and color, and reformed into Maugrim. He was no longer holding the staff weapon but otherwise he looked unharmed. His face contorted into a snarl. "Prismatic…" he began, raising a hand with his fingers spread out, but whatever he intended to do was cut short.

Teal'c had started to reload immediately after firing at the first flesh golem. By now he had another buckshot round in the M79 and he'd already selected the second golem as his target. The grenade launcher boomed out once more. Maugrim spun around again, half the side of his head torn off, and fell flat.

The duplicate wizards popped out of existence as bullets hit them and the real wizard, stripped of his decoys, dropped to his knees clutching his chest and blowing out bloody bubbles from his mouth. Jack proved his theory about the armor skin by giving the protected cultist a long burst. The first few shots did indeed bounce off but the last ones tore the wizard apart.

Only the zombies remained, now, and even as Jack changed targets they crumpled to the ground. The last time Jack had faced zombies, in the battle at the Stargate, the walking corpses had kept on attacking, although in random fashion, even after the death of the priest who had created them. This time, perhaps because they had been made from the bodies of Neverwinter natives who were deadly enemies of Maugrim, they died with their controller. They fell to the floor, no longer undead but merely dead, and lay unmoving.

"Bloody hell, those guns of yours are loud when you use them indoors," Tomi remarked. "My ears will be ringing for days."

"Better deaf than dead," Jack said. "There are quieter ones in our world but they don't have the same hitting power."

"Better deaf than dead," Tomi echoed, grinning widely. "Nice one. Okay, time to loot the bodies."

"We need to find the 'Word of Power'," Daniel said. "I want to see if it really is a Gate address. I see a big chest over there. Maybe that's where he kept it – but I guess you should check it for traps first."

Something about that phrase rang a bell with Jack but he couldn't place it. He put the thought aside and went to check on Sharwyn and the little girl.

Sharwyn was untying the girl's bonds. "You're safe now," she said. "We killed the bad men."

Jack was surprised to see that the child looked to be of oriental extraction. Her dark brown eyes focused on him and she gave him a slightly shaky smile. "Your weapons are very strange," she said. "Are you from Lantan? My sister says that the humans in Lantan have red hair and green eyes, but your eyes are brown and your hair is grey."

"My hair's just… not as brown as it used to be," Jack said. "We come from a place called Earth."

"Are you with the Lords' Alliance?" The girl didn't wait for an answer. "I lost my sister and I couldn't find her. I tried to hide from the Luskans but they caught me."

"Don't worry, kid, we'll get you back to your sister," Jack said.

"My name's not kid," the girl said. "My name is Leesa."

For a second Jack was distracted by thinking about how many episodes of The Simpsons he had missed. He put those thoughts aside. "Okay, then, Leesa, glad to meet you. I'm Jack. Your sister's, uh, Luce, right?"

"That's right," Leesa confirmed. "Do you know her? She's the prettiest of all the girls at the Moonstone Mask. Everybody says so."

"No, I don't know her," Jack said. "I'm not from round here."

"I know your sister well," Sharwyn said. "We will take you home as soon as we have finished our business here."

"There aren't any outer doors or windows," Sam commented, over on the other side of the room. "I thought you said this was a temple, Tomi. Was the portal the only way in?"

"Nah, there used to be perfectly normal entrances," Tomi replied. "Maugrim must have sealed them all up with Stone Shape to keep unwelcome visitors out. You can still see where they were if you look hard."

"Oh." Sam stared at the walls with an expression on her face that reminded Jack of a deer staring at the headlights of an oncoming car. He could see why. This planet's mixture of the primitive and the staggeringly advanced seemed to be calculated to drive any logical thinker insane. Luckily Jack had never claimed to be a logical thinker. He turned to Sharwyn.

"How did you do that thing where you were there," Jack gestured back towards where they had entered the room, "and then suddenly you were right beside Maugrim? And, for that matter, how did he do pretty much the same thing?"

"Time Stop," Sharwyn explained. She grinned broadly. "In theory I shouldn't have been able to do it. It's a ninth level spell and bards usually can't cast more than sixth level – things like the Ice Storm I used back at the Voice of the Lost – but I'm getting pretty damn good and Lady Egeria hinted I'd be able to pull it off. Yay, go me, as a friend of mine from Earth would say. Usually the caster of a Time Stop can't affect anyone else – the people and the places that surround you are frozen in time and can't be moved or injured – but there were words in the song that I thought I could use as an attack, because of it all being part of the same spell, and it worked. He let his defenses down, just as I sang for him to do, and you did the rest."

"It was pretty impressive," Jack said, "and getting Leesa here out of the line of fire made all the difference."

"That's what I thought," Sharwyn said. "The down side is that it took a lot out of me. It's been a long day and I'm pretty much wiped out. I have a couple of conventional spells left, and I could maybe come up with two or three minor song spells, but that's all. I need a few hours sleep before I can do anything else major."

"Ah. That's… not good." It was news on a par with hearing that the close air support for an impending assault had been cancelled because of fog.

"You have a couple of spare guns now. Maybe you could show me how to use one," Sharwyn suggested.

Jack winced at the thought of someone untrained using a fully automatic weapon. "I don't think that would be a good idea," he said. "You'd be more dangerous to the rest of us than to the enemy until you had more training than we have time for right now."

"You're the expert," Sharwyn said, accepting his statement without question. "I'll stick to what spells I have left and my double-sword."

"O'Neill," Teal'c called, "we have found the zat'nik'tel. It was locked away in a chest as if it was of no importance." He sounded displeased, Jack thought, as if he regarded Maugrim's disregard for the technology of the Goa'uld and the Jaffa slightly insulting.

"Or he was keeping it as a trophy," Jack said.

"This must be the Word of Power," Daniel said, taking a stone object out of the same chest. "Yes, it's a symbol from a Gate address. It seems to be shaped as if to fit into a socket."

"It's made of naqadah," Sam said. "The Word isn't just part of an address; it's a section of an actual Gate, presumably with a fixed destination. Find the sockets, insert the Words, and the Gate will open. Plug and play."

"And no doubt the portal will lead to Morag's sanctuary," Sharwyn said, "where she will be assembling her army. The other three Words are with Aarin Gend at Castle Never. Maugrim talked of a Source Stone there; that must be the thing into which you fit the Words of Power. We can reach Morag. I would like to make a pre-emptive strike to attack her before she launches her own assault."

"Yeah, that's good strategy," Jack said.

"Your own objectives have been achieved now," Sharwyn went on. "You have slain the one who had you tortured and have retrieved the weapons which were stolen. If you decide to return to your own world now I will understand – but I hope that you will stay."

Jack half-closed his eyes and considered. Technically she was correct, they'd done everything they had told General Hammond they were staying on to do, but the job didn't _feel_ finished. He remembered Kenadi's last words; "Save Neverwinter, kill Maugrim." He hadn't made a firm promise to carry out those last wishes, unlike Cierre, but he'd do it if he could. The 'kill Maugrim' part was done but Neverwinter still wasn't safe. He looked around the group, an eyebrow raised, and wordlessly invited opinions.

"It would greatly increase Sharwyn and her companions' chances of success if we were to accompany them on their mission," Teal'c said, "and to do otherwise would be less than honorable."

"I'd hate to leave right now," Sam said. "I have to see this self-assembly Gate in operation. Also it would feel like leaving Sharwyn's people in the lurch if we went home now."

"We came here to explore and maybe establish a trading relationship," Daniel said, "and there's still a lot to learn about this place. I want to stay a while longer."

"I'm good with that," Jack said. "Sure, we'll stay on and help you blow this Morag creature away."

A beaming smile lit up Sharwyn's face. "Thank you," she said. "You are true friends."

"You helped us, we'll help you," Jack said. "Diplomacy isn't exactly my strong point but that's a principle that's pretty easy to grasp." He turned back to face Daniel. "I can see you drifting towards the bookshelves, Daniel," he said, "but we don't have time to read. You have five minutes to pick a few books to take with you and then we're out of here. We'll take the little girl back to her sister, hand over Aribeth to the law, and let that Captain guy – what was his name, Trascar?"

"Trancar," Sharwyn corrected him.

"Right. Anyway, we should let him know that we've taken out the siege engines, and then head for the castle." Jack raised a hand and scratched his ear. "So, this Lord Nasher. He's in charge here, right? The top guy, doesn't report to anyone, in sole command of the whole place. How come he isn't a King?"

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

Jack had a mental picture of what a bar would look like in a place where they used bows and arrows and stabbed each other with swords. Straw on the floor featured heavily, probably a few pigs running around and squealing, the illumination would come from flaming torches in brackets on the walls, the furniture would be crudely hewn trestle tables, and there would be large tankards of ale being quaffed by hairy characters with axes. Pretty much everything about this world so far had confounded his expectations and the Moonstone Mask continued the trend.

The floor was tiled, with a mosaic centerpiece in the form of a stylized domino mask, and the tables were elegant and highly polished. Some had been upended ready to serve as cover for defenders, in the event of the Luskans penetrating this part of the city and attacking the establishment, but those still upright were surrounded by chairs with embroidered upholstery and gilded trim. The room was lit by crystal chandeliers that glowed with their own light, candles being conspicuous by their absence, and the barmaids looked like supermodels. Any hairy ale-quaffing axe-men entering this place would no doubt be politely asked to take their custom elsewhere. The bouncers, hard-faced men wearing steel breastplates and with basket-hilted rapiers slung at their hips, would make sure that the request was taken seriously.

Little Leesa scampered off across the room towards a girl who looked like Michelle Kwan. "Luce! Luce!" Leesa squealed, as the older girl ran to meet her. "I was rescued by heroes and they killed the bad wizards and captured Aribeth and they killed a giant!"

The elder sister picked Leesa up and enfolded her in a hug. "Leesa! I've been so worried. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, really." Leesa wriggled in her sister's arms. "Daniel gave me some chocolate and Teal'c gave me a piggyback ride."

"I'm so glad you're safe." The beautiful Oriental girl looked over Leesa's shoulder and smiled at Jack and the others. "Thank you so much. I'm not rich but I can give you five hundred nobles reward…"

Jack opened his mouth to decline any reward, remembered Tomi's apparently insatiable greed, and hesitated. He didn't want to offend the little guy.

Sharwyn was less bothered, or else merely knew Tomi better, and spoke up immediately. "We don't need any reward, Luce. We're just glad we were in the right place at the right time to save Leesa."

"Wouldn't turn down a drink, though, love," Tomi added. The grin on his face showed that he wasn't bothered about missing out on a financial reward.

"Of course," Luce said. "Wine?" Tomi and Daelan accepted the offer; the others declined.

A woman approached the group. She was tall, platinum blonde, and curvaceous. Her gown had a very low neckline, displaying a noteworthy cleavage, and long slits up the sides to show off her legs. Once she drew close, and Jack got a good look at her face, he was able to guess her age as being probably in the mid-forties. She was extremely attractive, and her full lips held a welcoming smile, but there was steel in her eyes.

"Greetings, Sharwyn, Daelan, and Tomi," she said. "Thank you for returning Luce's sister. She has been most distressed."

"Anyone would have done the same," Sharwyn said. She waved a hand in a gesture encompassing Jack, Daniel, Sam and Teal'c. "My companions Colonel Jack O'Neill, Major Samantha Carter, Daniel Jackson, and Teal'c. They are strangers in this land but have adopted our cause and are deadly fighters." She reversed the direction of her gesture. "Meet Ophala Cheldarstorn, owner of the Moonstone Mask, and a mage of no small ability."

"Retired, and considerably out of practice, alas," Ophala said. "Ten years ago I'd have been at your side in your missions against the Luskans. Now all that I can do is to defend my own establishment." Her lips twisted in a grimace. "Luskan infiltrators made it to the Shining Knight forge and killed Marrok."

"Damn," Sharwyn said. "He was a craftsman of rare skill. His death is a great loss to Neverwinter."

"Indeed so," Ophala said, grimacing again. "You have my condolences for Kenadi."

"Thanks," Sharwyn said, her lips tightening. There was a pause for a few moments in which no-one spoke.

Jack broke the silence. "Nice place you have here," he said.

"Thank you," Ophala said, "although you see it not at its best. I notice that you bear the stains of recent battle. You are welcome to rest here awhile, if you wish, but I am afraid I cannot offer you beds. All spare space is occupied by casualties from the battle and the girls have had to double up to make room."

"Now that's something I'd pay to watch," Tomi muttered.

"We are not open for business in that sense," Ophala said. "I can offer drinks and meals only. Would you care to dine? I am afraid that the menu lacks variety, due to the present circumstances, but we are not yet reduced to eating rats. It will be plain food, but well cooked, and there is plenty."

Jack suddenly realized that the Moonstone Mask wasn't just a restaurant and bar; it was a brothel. A very expensive and exclusive one, no doubt, but definitely a brothel. The restaurant aspect was far more interesting, however, and hunger pangs struck at the mention of food. General Hammond had sent food along with the weapons and ammunition, and they were amply supplied, but they'd been on the move or in combat almost incessantly since they restocked at the Gate. All he'd managed to find time for, in the past few hours, had been to wolf down a Power Bar on the way through the city.

"Sounds good," he said, "but I don't think we have the time."

"We must inform Captain Trancar that we have destroyed the siege engines," Sharwyn said, "and then we have business at the castle. Also, I'm almost out of spells and the only way I might get some back is if I can find a scroll of Spell Trap. I don't suppose you have one you can spare?"

"I can get one for you," Ophala offered. "Stay and eat, and I shall send to the Cloak Tower for the scroll. There is no need for you to report to Trancar. He is already aware that the catapults are out of action – we all noticed when the bombardment ceased – and you would not find him at the Trade of Blades. I gather that he is leading a sortie into the Docks district. Two Luskan ships sailed in a short time ago and, much to our surprise, attacked their own side from the rear. Trancar is striking to take advantage of this unexpected turn of events."

"Worshippers of Auril," Sharwyn deduced. "The priestesses of Auril have probably spread word of the death of Lady Cold Circle and of Maugrim's true allegiance."

"That's a fair guess," Jack agreed.

"I must admit the thought of food is very tempting," Sharwyn said. "What think you, Jack? Can we spare the time?"

"My stomach thinks my throat's been cut," Tomi chimed in. "I'll fight a damn sight better if I can get some grub inside me."

"I also am exceedingly hungry," Daelan agreed.

"Okay, we'll take time out for some food," Jack decided, "and then head on up to the castle."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

The castle was impressive but its defenses were less so. The bowmen on the battlements were few and far between and they were backed up by only a couple of wizards. The mailed men-at-arms manning the gates were also far fewer in number than Jack would have expected. Presumably the garrison had been stripped of men to bolster the forces fighting for control of the rest of the city.

A mere handful of men-at-arms, led by a sergeant, escorted the party into the castle to an audience with Lord Nasher. There were no fanfares, no heralds, and little ceremony. Jack was slightly disappointed; it wasn't living up to the Hollywood idea of a meeting with someone who was, effectively, a medieval King.

Lord Nasher was a fairly impressive figure at first sight. He wore gilded armor, had a large sword slung at his back, and wore an actual crown; a fairly plain one, little more than a slim gold circlet with four peaks, but a crown nonetheless. On closer inspection Jack noticed that Nasher was going severely bald, what little hair remained was grey, and his heavy mustache seemed to be dragging his face down.

The ruler of Neverwinter was flanked by two attendants. One of them looked like a typical Marine officer, with close-cropped hair and a jutting jaw, although the plate armor and blue surcoat would have been out of place in that role. The other was considerably darker of skin than Teal'c, although not as jet black as Cierre, and had dreadlocks. African-American, Jack might have said, except that the man wasn't American and, this not being Earth, wasn't even African either. He wore leather armor and had two short swords belted at his waist. His gaze locked onto Cierre the second she entered the audience chamber and remained fixed on her unwaveringly.

Sharwyn bowed to Lord Nasher, a mere slight bend at the waist and a dip of the head rather than a sweeping formal bow, and spoke. "My Lord," she said, "we have captured Lady Aribeth and slain Maugrim."

The Lord nodded. "Worthy deeds, Sharwyn, and you and your fellows deserve great praise, but I fear it is not enough. The spirit of the enemy is not broken and already others have stepped forward from the ranks to assume the leadership of the Luskan army. Some darker power appears to be driving them on and all we can do is hang on and hope that help arrives in time."

"Or attack that darker power and kick its ass," Jack said. He had no idea what the protocol was for speaking to the Lord and, frankly, he didn't care. "That's where we come in."

"My Lord, may I introduce Colonel Jack O'Neill," Sharwyn said, giving another slight bow. "Also his companions Major Samantha Carter, Daniel Jackson, and Teal'c. They have skills and weapons beyond anything we possess in Neverwinter. With their help I believe we can destroy the Old Ones and save Neverwinter."

"Ah, yes," Nasher said. "The original owners of the weapons that the Luskans used to slay the defenders at the outer gate and break into the city."

"We got them back," Jack pointed out, "and the people who stole them are all dead now."

"Good," said Nasher. "I thank you for your aid and welcome you as valuable allies." He turned his attention back to Sharwyn. "There is, however, another new member of your group whom you have not introduced," he prompted.

"Cierre of Luruar, a ranger of the North," Sharwyn said.

Cierre dipped her head in a token bow. "Greetings, Lord Nasher of Neverwinter," she said.

"Your reputation is well known to us, Cierre," Nasher said. He stroked his mustache. "It is said that you are a spy for the Drow of Menzoberranzan."

"Not true," Cierre replied. "Long ago, perhaps, but I have long since forsworn that allegiance. My life is forfeit if I ever return to the city of my birth."

"Perhaps," Nasher said, "but there is one thing that is definitely true. It was you who slew Kenadi Nefret."

"I did," Cierre admitted, "but I was tricked into it and I have since done my best to make amends."

"There can be no making amends for murder," the black man put in. "Your duty under the law is clear, my Lord. Cierre must be executed."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

Disclaimer: song lyrics in this chapter come from 'In A Big Country' by Big Country, 'Freebird' by Lynyrd Skynyrd, 'Return To Innocence' by Enigma, 'I Can See For Miles' by The Who, 'Spirit Of Radio' by Rush, and 'Time Stand Still' by Rush. Lyrics are used without the permission of the copyright holders and with no intent to profit from their use.


	7. Through the Looking Glass

**Chapter Seven**

**Through the Looking Glass**

Jack shook his head. "I don't believe this," he said. "You want to execute Cierre? Are you out of your mind?"

Lord Nasher merely raised an eyebrow. It was the black man who responded. "She hunted down and slew Kenadi," he said, a snarl in his voice. "She deserves death."

"It was a duel, for crying out loud," Jack pointed out. "Kenadi accepted the challenge and told us to stay out of it. They fought one on one, a fair fight, but Cierre was just a little bit better. And she came out of it with a sword in her gut and nearly died anyway. I don't know what your laws on dueling are but I bet they don't say anything about executing the winner. Would you be talking about executing Kenadi if she'd won? I'm thinking that's a no."

"Was it even in your jurisdiction?" Daniel asked, his eyes fixed on Lord Nasher. "I remember Kenadi saying we were 'a league from a fort of Neverwinter', but she never said anything about us having crossed the border. We might still have been in Luskan territory."

"My duty to Neverwinter's citizens does not end at the border," Lord Nasher pointed out.

"But your responsibility for enforcing the laws of Neverwinter does," Daniel riposted.

"You know, we don't have to be here," Jack said. "We stayed on here so we could kill Maugrim, get back the weapons he stole from us, and do enough damage to the Luskan army to make up for what they did with those weapons. We've done all that. It looks like the city's still in danger, and I'd like to give you a hand, but if you're going to talk about executing one of my friends I'll just take my team and go home. It's your choice."

Lord Nasher pursed his lips. "I do not appreciate your attempt to put pressure on me. I do, however, recognize your concern for your comrade and I assure you that, in this matter, Aarin Gend does not speak for me. Let me put your minds at rest. I have no intention of taking action against Cierre of Luruar regarding the death of Kenadi Nefret. I will require a full account of the affair for the record, later, but that is all."

Jack relaxed. "Great. In that case we'll stick around and help you put an end to this war."

"My Lord! You cannot mean it," the black guy, presumably Aarin Gend, protested. "You are betraying Kenadi's memory. These strangers…"

"Enough!" Lord Nasher cut him off. "The safety of the city is more important than personal feelings. We cannot afford to antagonize valuable allies. Moreover there is truth in their words. Executing Cierre would be unjust as well as counter-productive. Do not mention it again."

"Very well, my Lord," Gend said, dipping his head slightly, with resentment thick in his voice.

"Now, Colonel O'Neill – is that the correct title?"

Jack nodded. "That's right, uh, my Lord."

"I gather that you think you can strike directly at the one commanding our enemies?"

"It seems better than sitting here waiting for them to come to us," Jack said. "Maugrim was trying to get into her, uh, pocket dimension so that he could be at her side when she comes out. He reckoned he needed four 'Words of Power'. We took the one he had and Sharwyn tells me you already have the other three."

"And what good will they do us?" Lord Nasher asked. "None of our sages have been able to make any sense of the damn things."

"That's where we come in," said Jack, "or at least Daniel and Carter. They've worked out how to use them."

"Oh?" Lord Nasher's eyebrows, still black despite his grey hair, rose. "And what do they do?"

"Open a… portal, I guess you'd call it," Sam said, "to the, uh, pocket dimension where Morag is holed up. Maugrim was going to go in and join her. We'll go instead only, instead of joining her, we'll kill as many of her soldiers as we can."

"And blow shi- stuff up," Jack added. "It's what we do best. If we can do enough damage, especially if we can kill Morag, we should be able to stop them for good."

"We just need to find something called the 'Source Stone'," Daniel said. "Apparently it's somewhere in this castle."

"There is certainly a mysterious stone object in the caverns beneath the dungeons," Nasher confirmed. "A strange creature, somewhat resembling the lizard-folk, arrived here at mid-morning and rambled on about a Source Stone. I sent men down to investigate and they found the structure it described. The creature claims to know you, Sharwyn."

"Is it called Haedraline?" Sharwyn asked.

"Sounds like a mouthwash," Jack muttered, "or a cosmetics brand."

"Yes, that is its name," Nasher said. "It does know you, then?"

"I encountered her a couple of times when we were searching for the Words of Power," Sharwyn said. "She claimed to be an escaped slave, the leader of a rebellion – which had been pretty much crushed, except for her – and that she wants Morag dead as much as we do."

"And do you believe her?" Nasher asked.

Sharwyn's shoulders jerked as if she'd started to shrug and then reconsidered. She dipped her head slightly instead. "Not entirely, my Lord," she said. "I certainly believe that she's Morag's enemy. She gave us some useful information that helped us beat Maugrim's men to one of the Words. As to believing that she's on our side, well, that's another story. For all I know she could be another enemy who plans to conquer us herself once Morag's out of the way. Kenadi…" she faltered slightly, took a deep breath, and then continued, "…was inclined to treat her as an ally until she proved otherwise. As she was intangible it didn't really make a lot of difference."

"Intangible?" Lord Nasher, Jack, and Sam all echoed the word at once.

"A projected image," Sharwyn elaborated. "She could neither touch nor be touched."

"Hologram?" Sam said to Jack. He nodded.

"Well, the creature is solid now," Nasher said. "I've had it locked up in the dungeons, for the time being, until I could decide what to do with it."

Jack rubbed his hands together. "An intel source," he said, grinning. "That's more like it. I wasn't looking forward to going in blind."

Sam half-closed her eyes and directed her gaze at the ceiling. "Hmm, yes," she muttered.

"If Haedraline was able to come out physically, and not as a mere image," Sharwyn mused, "it is likely that the way is open for Morag's army. I think we're running out of time."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

The dungeons in Castle Never were less austere than the ones in which SG-1 had been incarcerated. Aribeth's cell had a bed, although it consisted only of a mattress and blankets, a washbasin and a commode. And, most importantly, no-one would be coming round to drag her off to the torture chambers. Her armor had been taken from her and she wore a plain grey gown. Without that incredible spring-loaded breastplate to draw the eye it was actually easier to look her in the face. Jack wondered briefly if the idea of the armor had been to gain a combat advantage but decided that, no, it was vanity.

Sharwyn and Daelan made another appeal to Aribeth through the bars, trying to persuade her to actively return to duty and help them against Morag, but Aribeth turned them down. Apparently she was convinced that Morag had too big a hold over her and, when it came to the crunch, she wouldn't be able to resist the creature's influence and would go back to the Dark Side. Jack didn't take part in the conversation. He didn't know Aribeth and, from what he had seen of her, he regarded her as over-rated. She might be good with a sword but, unlike Cierre and Daelan, she didn't seem to have the mental strength to face adversity and keep on going. She'd be a liability in combat, in Jack's opinion, and he wasn't at all disappointed at Sharwyn's failure to get her back on side.

"Colonel O'Neill," Cierre said, as Jack leaned back against a stone wall and waited for the conversation to finish, "Jack. You spoke of me as a… friend."

"Well, yeah," Jack said. "You came to get us out of the torture chambers, when you didn't have to, and you've been a damn good member of the team. Like they say, 'a friend in need is a friend indeed'. You're a friend in my book, for sure."

Cierre looked down at the floor. "Sharwyn also called me 'friend'," she said. "I am… unused to this. In fifteen years no human has called me friend before now."

"Uh, well, if you live way out in the wilds…" Jack began.

"Even in the town of Nesmé, when I fought with them against an invasion of trolls and saved many lives, I found no friendship," Cierre interrupted him. "Your declaration is… strangely pleasing. I am glad to call you trusted friend."

Jack shrugged. "Well, you know how it goes. You wait fifteen years for a friend and then two come along all at once."

"Three," Sam put in. "You're my friend too, Cierre." She gave Cierre one of her special radiant smiles that always made Jack's heart leap a little. "You lent me your pants when I needed them, remember?"

"Four," Teal'c added. "You have the true warrior spirit, Cierre, and I too claim you as a friend and comrade."

"I'm sure Daniel will make it five," Jack said, and then noticed that the archaeologist was nowhere to be seen. "Hey, where's Daniel gone? Is there a library around here I didn't spot, or statues, or maybe wall carvings?"

When Sharwyn gave up on Aribeth, and the group moved on, they located Daniel. He had gone on ahead, found Haedraline, and was questioning her about her people's history.

Jack wasn't interested in the enemy's history and culture. All he wanted to know was how many of them there were, what they had in the way of weapons and tactics, and the best way to kill them.

He studied the reptilian creature as Daniel continued to talk. She was the height of a man, but skinny, and fully bipedal. Her head was that of a lizard, except that her eyes – red and snakelike – faced forward and gave her fully binocular vision, and she had a forked tongue. And she was green and scaly. Jack wouldn't have called her a 'she' if he hadn't taken note of Sharwyn using a feminine designation for the reptilian. Haedraline was naked except for a loincloth, and headgear that looked like a towel draped over the back of her head, and nothing about her said 'female' to him. Of course she was a reptile and breasts, even nipples, weren't part of her physiology.

"So," Jack said, once Daniel's questioning had slackened off to the point where he was able to get a word in, "how many soldiers does Morag have?"

"She has thirty thousand warriors at her command," the reptile woman replied.

Jack groaned. Neverwinter couldn't come remotely close to matching that, even if they put every adult capable of holding a sword into the field, and General Hammond's offer of an extra couple of SG teams, with heavy weapons, now seemed pitifully inadequate.

"Most still sleep, frozen in time," Haedraline went on. Jack perked up.

"Stasis chambers," Sam muttered, "or suspended animation."

"Queen Morag has awakened her elite bodyguards, and the adepts of her Court, but the great armies are not yet assembled," Haedraline went on. "She had brought forth perhaps a hundred or so of the common warriors when I escaped her realm. She wakes sixteen at a time, twice each hour, and their numbers grow as you wait."

"Thirty-two an hour, seven hundred and sixty-eight a day," Sam calculated. "Thirty-nine days to wake the whole army, I make it, not counting sleeping and eating time. The time-scale's not as tight as we feared."

"Each hour we wait means we face more of the enemy," Sharwyn said, seeing the down side. "I had hoped to sleep, that I might regain my spells, but eight hours' rest would bring another… two hundred and fifty sarrukh to oppose us. It's not worth the trade-off. Better to go in as soon as possible. Already, with those who will have been awakened since Haedraline left, we'll be facing a good three hundred or more."

"And they could send a thousand through, to establish a bridgehead, a couple of days from now," Jack added, "and build up from there a hundred at a time." He briefly considered returning to the SGC to pick up a tactical nuke; that would ruin the lizards' whole day. Then again he didn't know what effect it would have on Neverwinter. If the reptile people were indeed in some sort of other dimension it would probably be okay but, on the other hand, their hang-out might just be a subterranean hibernation chamber beneath the city. Dropping Neverwinter into a radioactive crater didn't seem like a good plan. "I say we hit them as soon as we can," he decided. "I want to do a little tinkering first, though. I've an idea for a nasty little surprise to whittle down their numbers."

"I think I can rig a remote camera to send through in advance," Sam said, "to see what we're up against before we go in."

"Excellent," Jack said. "I knew I could count on you, Carter. Haedraline, can you draw me a map of the place where Morag hangs out? Mark the guard posts, barracks, her quarters, that sort of thing?" Carter produced a note-pad and pencil and passed them through the cell bars.

"I can, live-young creature," the reptile woman agreed. "It will take me a little while to draw it properly."

"That's fine," Jack said. "We have a few things to do before we'll be ready to go in. I'll pick it up then." He turned to the others. "Okay, let's go back to Nasher. If he can give us a platoon of soldiers, and a wizard or two to back us up, it'll make things a whole lot easier." He sighed. "And I can't believe I just said that I'm requesting back-up from wizards."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

"The battle still rages against the Luskans," Lord Nasher said. "Now that their siege engines have been silenced, thanks to you, we have the edge and have brought their advance to a halt. If I pull men out to aid you, however, the Luskans will be able to penetrate further into the city."

"And if we don't stop the reptile people now you'll have to deal with thirty thousand of them later," Jack pointed out. "From what I've heard they're pretty tough customers."

Nasher nodded. "True. I shall ask for volunteers from among the castle guards."

"Let me go with them," the square-jawed knight spoke up. "You have kept me in reserve thus far in the battle and I have had little chance to draw blade in Neverwinter's service."

"Very well, Sir Nevalle," Nasher said, "you may accompany them on this sortie. Perhaps I can spare two or three others from the Neverwinter Nine. To hold my bodyguard back in reserve at such a time of peril serves no purpose."

"We could use help from the Many-Starred Cloaks, my Lord," Sharwyn put in. "I am low on spells and there is no time to recover them."

"Most of them are on the battle lines," Nasher said, "but I shall summon those not currently engaged. Aarin, and Nevalle, make it so, and call for clerics also. This expeditionary force must be as strong as we can make it." His heavy eyebrows descended. "I would join you in person, Colonel O'Neill, but I must be here to rally our troops against the Luskans if need arises."

"That makes sense," Jack agreed. He had the impression that Nasher really would have joined the mission if his position hadn't made that inadvisable. Maybe he wasn't really such a bad old guy. Actually it was a good thing that Nasher wasn't coming along, as far as Jack was concerned; he wanted to be in command and the Lord's presence would have made things difficult. It would have been even more awkward if Aarin Gend had been ordered to join in but, thankfully, that wasn't going to happen. Hopefully the knights and wizards would do as they were told. "One other thing, uh, my Lord. I need some kind of workshop for a little while. I want to prepare a little gift for the lizards. One that they really won't like at all."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

"My colleagues Sir Damon, Sir Baedil, and Commander Callum," Sir Nevalle said. The three men named nodded their heads as each was introduced. Damon and Baedil were tall knights, in the same uniform of blue surcoat over chain mail as Sir Nevalle, and Callum was a dwarf. He stood a little over four feet tall but was as broad in the shoulder as an average man. "All three are formidable warriors."

"That's good to know," Jack said.

"Eltoora Sarptyl of the Many-Starred Cloaks," Sir Nevalle went on, indicating a painfully thin woman whose tawny hair was perhaps just starting to go grey. "Durvur Thoudrym," he went on, "also of the Many-Starred Cloaks." This was a man who fitted the traditional wizard stereotype, bearded and wearing a pointy hat, and who held a staff. Both wore cloaks which were, not surprisingly, adorned with a minor galaxy of stars.

"Linu La'Neral, elven priestess," Sir Nevalle continued. This was the woman Jack had met briefly in the Trade of Blades.

"So, Linu, you have put aside your prejudices," Sharwyn said.

"It is not prejudice to be unwilling to work with the woman who killed my friend," Linu said. "In the circumstances, however, I will set my feelings aside."

Jack wasn't exactly thrilled by her presence; hostility between members of the expedition could cause problems. A combat medic was a valuable asset, however, and he wasn't going to object to her coming along.

Sir Nevalle had paused, frowning, during this interchange. He resumed his introductions. "Sumia Kaszul, High Priestess of Talona," he said. The curl of his top lip as he spoke indicated to Jack that the knight was about as enthusiastic about this priestess as Jack was about Linu. If Jack remembered right Daniel had said something about Talona being a goddess of disease and poison, so the lack of enthusiasm was understandable, but on the other hand Sharwyn had mentioned those priestesses as being the only ones who'd been able to do anything about the plague.

"Well met, Most Debilitating Holiness," Sharwyn greeted the woman.

"Well met, Songstress of Shar," Sumia replied. She was an intimidating figure. Her armor was painted black and purple and had spikes sticking out of the shoulder protectors. Part of her face was hidden by the cheek and nasal guards of a helmet but what could be seen was heavily tattooed. She turned her attention to Jack and gave him a surprisingly warm smile. "Well met, Colonel Jack O'Neill," she said.

"Uh, well met," Jack replied.

"I am told that you killed Vhonna Truescar," the priestess said.

"She'd been torturing us for ten days," Jack said. "That's really not the way to get on my good side."

Her smile grew broader. "You have my admiration as well as my gratitude," she said. "I shall keep you alive, if that is in my power, and together we shall destroy the blasphemers who thought to use disease as their tool."

"Uh, yeah, we'll do that," Jack said.

"I like this not," Sir Baedil muttered to Sir Nevalle. "First a Drow and now we are to fight alongside a Talontar? What was Nasher thinking of, recruiting a priestess of such black evil to our cause?"

High Priestess Sumia turned a cold gaze on the knight. "And what am I doing fighting for the benefit of those who seized Genna and hanged her when she sought only to aid them?"

"Yours is a noble act and will be remembered," Sir Nevalle said, "and the killers of your colleague will be punished, to the full extent of the law, if they are caught. Sir Baedil, your comment was uncalled for. It was I, not Lord Nasher, who asked Reverend Sumia to join our mission. Her skills will be of great value."

"Indeed so," the woman wizard Eltoora put in. "Our enemies are of the scaled folk and no doubt will, like others of their kin, strike at us with deadly venom. None can counter venom as well as the clerics of Talona."

"Sounds good to me," Jack said. "I'm glad to have you along, Most, uh, Debilitating Holiness. As for you, Sir Baedil," he went on, taking the opportunity to make it clear who was in charge of this mission, "if you don't want to fight alongside her, well, there's an easy way around it. You can stay behind."

"What? You would choose the Talontar over a knight of Neverwinter?"

"Four knights, two priestesses," Jack said. "Which set has the most redundancy? You do the math. Plus, Cierre and Daelan aren't exactly amateurs at chopping off limbs. Shape up or ship out. Your choice."

The knight's brows lowered and his lips pursed. Before he could speak the dwarf, Callum, pre-empted him.

"Oh, let it drop, Baedil," the dwarf said. Unlike the dwarves Jack had seen on the Luskan side Callum wasn't bald; he had a thick shock of light brown hair, kept away from his face by a leather thong, and a beard bound into a single braid with loops of silver wire. "High Priestess Sumia is Neverwinter born and bred, she's done good work against the plague, and we should think ourselves lucky she's with us. I tell you, if I was bitten on the arse by a venomous lizard, and I had a choice between you sucking out the poison or her doing a proper Neutralize Poison spell, I know which one I'd choose."

Baedil's frown grew even deeper and he heaved a sigh. "Very well, then, I shall… accept her presence."

"Good," Jack said. He turned back to Sir Nevalle. "So, is this everybody?"

"Not quite," Nevalle answered. "Nine men-at-arms and two sergeants volunteered. We also have a thief, awaiting trial for looting, to whom Lord Nasher has offered freedom and a pardon in exchange for joining our expedition. They await us in the cavern beyond the dungeons. That is where Neverwinter's leading archaeologist, Master Ford, has discovered what we believe is the 'Source Stone' of which you speak."

The name immediately took Jack's mind to Harrison Ford as Indiana Jones. "Master Ford, huh? Does he use a bullwhip and is he scared of snakes?"

Creases appeared on Nevalle's forehead. "I am not aware of him ever using a bullwhip. It would not surprise me if he was scared of snakes but I have no certain knowledge. Why?"

"Oh, no reason, the name just reminded me of someone," Jack said. "Well, if there's an archaeologist down there, that tells me where we'll find Daniel. That means we're just waiting for Carter to finish making her gadget."

"It's done, sir," Sam said from behind him. "I take it you've finished yours?"

"All finished and as lethal as anyone could want," Jack said. "Right, let's get this show on the road."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

Master Ford was no Indiana Jones. He wore leather pants, presumably to protect his legs as he grubbed in the dirt for artifacts, but there was no bullwhip hanging at his belt. He was past middle age, obviously an academic rather than a swashbuckling adventurer type, and the Amish-style beard that adorned his chin was heavily streaked with grey.

Daniel, of course, was deep in conversation with him. Jack broke in at the first opportunity.

"So, Daniel, have you learned anything useful?"

"Not much," Daniel admitted. "No-one in the castle knew anything about the Source Stone. A stranger turned up and claimed he was an archaeologist researching the Illefarn Empire. They allowed him access to these caverns – Master Ford's predecessor had checked them out years ago and found nothing, so they didn't think it mattered – and they never saw him again."

"Maugrim," Jack said.

"Almost certainly," Daniel agreed. "There's a chasm down here, over that way a little," he said, indicating the direction with a jerk of his thumb, "and they took it for granted that the stranger had fallen into it. The plague broke out around that time, cutting short the attempts to find his body, and it was pretty much forgotten about until Haedraline turned up. That's when Lord Nasher sent Master Ford down here and he found the concealed entrance."

"Indeed so," Master Ford said. "It was not too hard to find and I am surprised Master Buinon did not discover it back when I was his student."

"It would have been hidden by the dust of ten thousand years," Daniel said. "Once it had been opened that will have all fallen out of the cracks."

"Of course, of course," Master Ford said. "There was surprisingly little dust and debris within the chamber. It took very little effort to expose and clean up the artifact within. How it operates, however, is quite beyond me."

"That's where we come in," Sam put in. "Show us to the Source Stone, if you would, Master Ford."

"Certainly, certainly," the archaeologist said. "This way." He led them through a hole in the rock face, high enough that no-one other than Daelan needed to stoop and broad enough for two people to go through at a time, and into a vaulted chamber about the size of the SGC Gate room. Four man-high stone pillars stood in a line across the middle of the room. Beyond them tracks of gleaming metal ran across the floor, spiraling in from the pillars to join a Gate-sized ring set into the ground, and also connected to four curved poles resembling street lights. On the far side of the circle a twenty-foot obelisk of black stone towered over everything else.

Jack hardly spared it a glance. His attention was seized by something completely different.

Someone, rather. The eleven volunteer soldiers, ordinary guards in chain-mail, were standing to attention just short of the four pillars. With them was a figure who was, no doubt, the thief who had been pressed into service. It was that thief who caused Jack's eyebrows to shoot up to stratospheric levels.

He had, perhaps chauvinistically, been expecting the thief to be a male. Possibly one of the same diminutive race as Tomi. Nope. The thief was a teenage girl. At a rough guess he'd put her at sixteen. Unexpected, certainly, but that in itself wouldn't have caused him more than a second's surprise. What had riveted his gaze to the girl was her horns and her tail.

"What the Hell?" he muttered.

"Fascinating," Daniel murmured.

"Yes, isn't it?" Sam agreed. "A static, one-address, Gate. The metal lines on the floor must be super-conductor connectors."

"Okay, check it out," Jack ordered. Sam moved off, followed by Daniel, and Jack deduced that Daniel's comment had also been about the unconventional Gate rather than the extremely strange girl. Sometimes those two baffled him.

"Sharwyn," Jack said, turning to his primary source of information about this planet, "that girl… has a tail. And horns. What is she?"

"A tiefling," Sharwyn explained, "part human, part demon or devil. She probably has a demon grandparent. They're pretty rare."

"You mean demons like that big red guy Egeria killed? I'm not surprised they're rare," Jack said.

"Demons and devils are not all big and ugly," Sharwyn said, "and they excel at tempting mortals. Remember the succubus that we saw in the Host Tower? She would not have found it hard to tempt a man such as my ex-husband."

"Was that what happened?" Jack asked.

"No." Sharwyn's reply was curt and her tone definitely discouraged further questions along those lines.

"She's very young," Jack commented, going back to the subject of the girl thief. "I'm not wild about taking a kid into a battle situation."

"It was only her youth that saved her from summary execution," Sir Nevalle pointed out. "If she does not accompany us then she will be returned to her cell to face trial. Looting in time of war is a serious crime. She could still face the death penalty although most probably it will be some lesser punishment. Flogging, perhaps, or banishment."

Jack wondered how many legitimate avenues of making a living had been open to a sixteen-year-old girl in a city under siege, recently ravaged by plague, and didn't come up with many acceptable answers. "It seems to me your criminal justice system is pretty harsh. I don't see the point of taking her along if it's just to get her killed without you having to bother with a trial."

Sir Nevalle gave him a tight smile. "I think you misunderstand. She is not some mere urchin caught stealing bread – we do not class such petty thefts as looting, and Lord Nasher is merciful toward those forced to steal to survive. No, she was caught exiting a mansion, deserted but heavily warded and trapped, with thirty thousand nobles' worth of antiquities and gems. I doubt she is a match for your halfling companion, few are, but she is accomplished enough at the crafts of the rogue to be of value to us. An extra pair of skilled eyes to spot traps and pitfalls is not to be spurned."

"Okay, if she's a professional that's different," Jack conceded. He turned his attention to the soldiers. "Your guardsmen look like professionals too," he said, "but just how good are they? I've seen Daelan and Cierre go through the Luskan equivalents of these guys like they were mowing grass."

"They are soldiers of Neverwinter, staunch and true," Nevalle declared. "None finer."

"I'm pleased to hear it," Jack said. "Their job is to make sure nobody gets up close and personal with the wizards, okay?"

Nevalle nodded. "Certainly. Sound tactics indeed." He moved on to introduce the soldiers to Jack and the others.

Jack did his best to memorize the names of the Neverwinter guardsmen – and to keep from thinking of them as 'Redshirts' – but doubted if he'd be able to keep track of which one was which once they got into action. There was nothing about any of them that really stood out. For that matter he probably wouldn't have been able to tell Sir Damon and Sir Baedil of the Neverwinter Nine knights apart if Sir Baedil hadn't acted like an asshole about the scary priestess lady. It wasn't as if they had distinguishing marks like… horns and a tail.

"This is so exciting," the teenager was saying. "Going on an adventure with four of the actual Neverwinter Nine, and four of the companions of the Hero of Neverwinter, and, uh…" Her eyes flicked towards Cierre and then away again.

Jack saw Cierre's fists clench and her head dip until she was staring at the ground. She said something under her breath; Jack thought it was "…and the woman who killed her," but he didn't hear it clearly enough to be sure. Sam, who was closer and probably had been able to make out what Cierre had said, raised a hand to Cierre's shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

"Anyway," the girl with the horns and tail went on, "it's a real adventure. Only I don't have a sword. Give me a sword, sirs, pretty please? I need something to protect myself."

Sir Damon frowned. "You are a criminal serving in lieu of punishment. You have not yet proved you can be trusted with a weapon."

"Oh, for crying out loud," Jack said, "somebody give the girl a sword. If she could be a danger to all of us then you'd never have been able to arrest her in the first place."

"That is clearly the case," Teal'c backed Jack. "Now that I have recovered my staff weapon I have no need for this sword. You may have it."

"Uh, thanks, but it's far too big for me," the girl said.

Cierre pulled that amazing bag of hers out of her belt pouch, rummaged in it, and produced a shortsword. "Breath of the Maiden," she said. "This sword nearly slew me. Take it, child, and if you serve us well you may keep it."

"Hey, thanks," the girl said, beaming in delight. "That's great. Only, don't call me 'child', if you please? I'm nearly seventeen."

"I am one hundred and thirty-nine years old," Cierre replied, "and I will call you 'child' if I wish. Also I do not know your name."

Jack's jaw dropped. She was a year older than Master Bra'tac. No wonder she was so damn good with her sword and axe. She'd had more than a century of practice.

"Oh. I guess that's fair. I'm Neeshka."

The scary priestess lady swung her head to face the teenager. "That sword is sacred to my goddess, Neeshka. If you do well I shall endow it with a blessing to increase its enchantment. Betray us, or flee from the foe, and I shall cause it to turn upon you and slay you in writhing agony."

"Oh, you needn't worry about that, Ma'am," Neeshka said. "I won't let you down."

"Good," Jack said. "We're all going to be counting on each other on this mission." He pointed at the Gate. "That's a one-way portal. According to, uh, Haedraline the Gate that leads back to Neverwinter is on the far side of Morag's HQ. We have to get past her to get to it. So, in other words, we win or we don't come back."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

"Okay, Carter," Jack said, "are you going to show us your new toy?"

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours, sir," Sam replied. Tomi sniggered and Sharwyn grinned.

"Fair enough," Jack said. He unwrapped the bundle he was carrying. It was the empty launcher tube from the M136 rocket. "It's packed with C4, sling bullets, and bits of scrap metal," he explained, "and the ends are plugged up good and tight. If we have to fall back, pursued by a yelling horde of lizards, we leave this behind and then… boom!"

Sam winced. "That could ruin somebody's whole day," she agreed. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere near it when it goes off."

"Yeah, ideally we'll be round a corner and shielded by solid rock," Jack said. "That's why it's wrapped in this cape. Sharwyn tells me it's totally fireproof. Getting hit by a fireball is bad enough on its own, and if it set off this thing…"

"I don't even want to think about it," Sam said. "Uh, sir, what about lightning bolts? Wouldn't one set off the detonators?"

"It's an enclosed environment," Jack said. "How could we be struck by lightning?"

"Wizards, sir," Sam said. "They can shoot lightning bolts as well as fireballs. That's what Sharwyn told me, anyway."

"Didn't you know, Jack?" Sharwyn said. "It's not a spell I use often, because in confined spaces the bolts can rebound and hit you, but some mages like it. Gedlee's Electric Loop is less dangerous to the user, although not as powerful, but Chain Lightning is the best."

"Crap," Jack said. "I saw one of Maugrim's guys hit Daelan with an electric shock, back when we were captured, and I'd forgotten all about it. I need something to protect this from lightning or else they won't find enough of us to bury."

"I don't fully understand what you are talking about," the lady wizard put in, "but if you need something to shield that object from lightning I can certainly provide it. As long as you return it to me when it is no longer required."

"Thanks, uh, Eltoora," Jack said, managing to dredge up her name from the recesses of his brain after narrowly avoiding calling her 'Uhura'. "That could be a life-saver."

Eltoora produced a cloak from out of a pouch which didn't look big enough to contain anything much larger than a cell-phone. "A Cloak of Reflection," she said. "It will reflect any bolt of electricity back to whence it came. Well, that's not strictly correct, as the angle of incidence equals the angle of reflection, and it won't be presenting a flat perpendicular surface…"

Somehow Jack stopped himself from starting to bang his head against one of the stone pillars. It seemed that even wizards could be terminally boring science geeks. "Thanks a lot," he interrupted, taking the cloak. "Carter, let's see your gadget now."

"It's the best I could improvise to act as a MALP replacement," Sam explained. "I had to make sure the camera didn't end up laying flat on the floor and this is what I came up with."

Jack stared at the egg-shaped device. "You made a… Weeble?"

"I suppose I did, sir. It wobbles, but it won't fall down. Whichever way it lands it'll roll so that the cameras are uppermost."

"Nice work. As long as it'll transmit back through the Gate."

"Oh, it will. You can count on it, sir."

"We'll try it out in a few minutes," Jack said. "If it shows two hundred lizards standing around the other end of the Gate, waving swords, then we're sending my little toy through first. Otherwise Teal'c can carry it. He's the one with the muscles and the giant strength belt."

"Indeed that is the case, O'Neill," Teal'c agreed. "I shall carry the bomb."

"Before we fire up the Gate there's something else we need to do," Jack said. "Tomi, I'm looking at you here. And you, Sharwyn, and Cierre, and you too, Eltoora, and, uh," he stared at the bearded wizard for several seconds before coming up with his name, "Durvir."

"That's 'Durvur'," the wizard corrected him.

"Sorry. Durvur. Oh, yeah, and Linu and," he completely failed to remember the final name and improvised, "Madame High Priestess of Talona."

The scary priestess seemed quite happy with that appellation. She turned away from Daniel, with whom she had been deep in conversation, and smiled at Jack. "How can we be of service, Colonel O'Neill?"

Jack had to take a deep breath before he could continue. "Magic items," he said, hardly able to believe that he was saying it in real life and meaning it. "It struck me when Eltoora pulled out that cloak. I guess that most of you have several things tucked away that you're not using. Well, they don't do any good when they're in your bags. Dish them out to the guys who don't have them."

The High Priestess nodded. "Of course, Colonel O'Neill. That is sound sense. I am afraid that I have little to offer, only three minor protective rings and an amulet – my church is not wealthy – but I place them all at your disposal."

Sharwyn flushed scarlet. "I am ashamed," she said. "I should have thought of this myself, especially after what happened at the Voice of the Lost, and I did not. I am not the leader that Kenadi was. She would have thought of it."

"Yeah, well, as long as you do it now," Jack said. Sharwyn began pulling out items of jewelry from various pockets and pouches. Cierre did the same.

"I get them back afterwards, right, boss?" Tomi said, as he opened up a leather bag.

"Sure," Jack said, nodding. He fixed Linu with a hard stare until she followed suit and then turned his attention to the wizards.

Eltoora met his gaze with a frown. "My items are worth thousands of nobles," she said. "Who will compensate me if they are lost?"

Jack shrugged. "Take that up with Lord Nasher," he said. "Those guys," he waved in the direction of the guardsmen, "are tasked with watching your back. Has it occurred to you that, if one of them gets killed by something that one of your rings could have stopped, he won't be there to stop you from getting stabbed? You really want that to happen just so you don't risk your money?"

"It is… not the way we do things," Eltoora said.

"Then our ways are wrong," Sharwyn backed Jack up.

"I shall be sure to inform Lord Nasher of your… unstinting cooperation, Eltoora," Sir Nevalle added, a touch of steel in his voice, "or not, as the case may be."

"Oh, very well," Eltoora said. She opened up her pouch again and started pulling things out. That confirmed it, Jack thought. It was another one of those freaking dimensional pocket things. Something even the Asgard couldn't match and these people regarded them as routine. And yet when it came to weapons they still used siege catapults, and swords, and crossbows – well, and honking big battle robots. It didn't add up in any way that made sense.

Jack stared at the other wizard until he followed Eltoora's example. "That's better," Jack said. "Okay, dish them out. Make sure everybody gets something useful." He looked in the direction of the weird Gate. "Including Carter and Daniel. They're so absorbed in checking out the portal they won't think to ask for themselves. Then, as soon as everyone's kitted out, we're going in."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

Daniel slotted the final Word of Power into the recess in the pillar. At once there was a reaction. The black stone obelisk began to glow and blue streams of coruscating sparks flowed along the paths made by the metal tracks on the floor. The slender poles overlooking the central ring lit up. Wavering bolts of electricity, like those produced by a Van de Graaff generator or a Tesla coil, crackled between their tips and the ring. The ring revolved, changed direction, and revolved again. It locked into place and a 'kawoosh', about a third the size of the normal vortex formed when an interstellar Gate activated, shot up vertically into the air. The sparking stopped and the vortex stabilized into a turquoise pool.

"Interesting," Sam commented. "So that's what a wormhole to a pocket dimension looks like."

As this was the only place where'd they'd come across pocket dimensions – Hell, he hadn't even _heard_ of pocket dimensions before – Jack wasn't sure that this was really the kind of breakthrough that would pay dividends in the war against the Goa'uld. Then again he'd never pretended to understand the geek stuff; except that you didn't let Carter or Daniel start talking about it if you wanted to get anything else done.

"Okay, Carter, send your Weeble through," Jack ordered.

"Sure thing, sir." She opened up her laptop, waited until the screen showed three wobbly images of the surroundings, and then lobbed the egg-shaped contraption through the event horizon.

The images blanked out briefly and then reappeared, first as static-filled boxes and then as blurs of motion, before eventually stabilizing as jerky but recognizable pictures.

"Right, let's see what we have," Sam said.

Daniel and Teal'c peered over her shoulders at the screen. Jack emulated them. Sharwyn took up a position at his side and followed suit. "The vision is small, and not as clear as with a scrying crystal or my spellsinging," she remarked, "but Clairvoyance would not have worked through a portal."

Sam brought one of the windows to the front and expanded it. A bipedal reptilian form showed up clearly, in the foreground, with other less distinct shapes behind. "Not as skinny as Haedraline," Sam commented.

"A sarrukh warrior," Sharwyn said. "Cierre, Tomi, and I fought them in the ancient ruins. Stronger than the average human, and their skin is as tough as a studded leather brigandine, but by no means unbeatable."

"Can you get a head count?" Jack asked Sam.

She swapped over to another window. "They seem to be clustering around the arrival point," she said. "Not hundreds, that's for sure." She ran a finger over the touch-pad.

"Wait!" Teal'c broke in. "That one there. Is he wielding… a staff weapon?"

"It sure looks like one," Jack said. "I didn't know they had anything like that."

Sharwyn squinted at the screen. "It does resemble Teal'c's weapon," she said, "but I believe it is merely a double-headed dire mace. Fearsome in close combat, especially against chain mail or leather, but that's all. Some of those we fought in the ruins bore them."

"I hope you're right," Jack said. "If they have long-range weapons it changes things. A lot." He bent toward the screen. "Any chance of getting a clearer view?"

Sam shook her head. "With a webcam this is the best you're going to get."

"Damn. I just can't be sure." Jack straightened up. "Haedraline didn't say anything about them having ranged weapons other than, uh, spells. If it is a staff weapon… we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. We can't wait any longer. Head count, Carter?"

"Just a minute longer, sir." Sam swapped back and forth between windows. "I count thirteen. I can't rule out there being a few more out of shot."

"Sixteen, I'll bet," Daniel said. "They have four fingers on each hand. They do things in eights, not tens."

"That makes sense," Jack said. "Ready, everybody. We're going in." He turned toward the Gate, took out a grenade, and pulled the pin. "We don't need the bomb for sixteen, but I'd rather step over bodies than jump into a fight," he said, and he tossed the grenade through the portal.

"Most of them are down," Sam reported a few seconds later. "One or two are still standing but they look hurt." She closed the laptop and packed it away.

"Cierre, Daelan, take the lead with me," Jack ordered. "Finish off any of them still alive. Carter, Sharwyn, give us twenty seconds and then bring everyone else through." He cocked his P-90 and stepped through the portal with the two deadly close-quarter fighters following at his heels.

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

"It's not a staff weapon," Jack confirmed. "Just a stick with a heavy weight at both ends. I wouldn't want to get hit with it but at least it doesn't shoot energy blasts." He dropped the weapon on top of the corpse of its owner.

Sharwyn nodded. "A dire mace, as I said."

Cierre withdrew her sword from the body of a sarrukh, wiped blood from the blade, and slid it home into its scabbard. "This cavern is almost like home," she said. Her lips twitched into a smile. "Except that here I am with friends."

Sam and Daniel were staring at a stone column. Sam flicked on the flashlight mounted on her P-90 and shone the beam on the rock. Or perhaps not rock, as it turned out to be semi-transparent; some sort of crystal. The light penetrated it and lit up something inside.

One of the humanoid lizards.

"So that's how they're stored," Daniel said. He played his light over other columns and the dim shapes of other frozen creatures were revealed. "Fascinating. I wonder how they wake up and get out."

"They don't," Jack said. "That's the whole point of us being here, in case you've forgotten."

"I was speaking theoretically, Jack."

"It is an interesting technique," Sam said. "I've never seen anything like it. In suspended animation for thirty thousand years. It's… incredible."

"And not useful, not when we have Stargates and FTL ships," Jack said, "so forget about it. Both of you. We're here to bury these guys, not to raise them."

"There could still be circumstances…" Sam began.

Teal'c's voice cut her off. "O'Neill! They come!" A shot from his staff flared brightly in the dim light of the cavern. A sarrukh warrior staggered out of the adjoining corridor and collapsed. A wave of living sarrukh, maybe twenty or so, rushed out in its wake.

"I thought the noise might bring company," Jack said. He raised his P-90 to his shoulder, as did Sam and Daniel, but the Neverwinter knights ruined his plans.

"For Neverwinter!" Sir Damon shouted, charging to the attack. Sir Baedil went with him, uttering the same war cry, and Sir Nevalle was only a step behind.

The dwarf, Callum, shook his head, muttered something that might have been "Idiots," and then followed.

"For crying out loud," Jack groaned. "You're blocking our line of fire!"

"Foolish males," Cierre said. She took her bow from her shoulder, bent it, and slipped the string into place. "Our advantage is at a distance and they throw it away."

The knights reached the oncoming reptilians. Swords clashed on sarrukh blades. Dire maces swung and glanced from shields. Sir Damon thrust his sword through the belly of one of the sarrukh. As he began to withdraw the blade his shield-arm was seized and pulled aside. Fanged jaws gaped wide, lunged forward, and bit down on his bicep. The chain-mail saved him from having the muscle ripped away but fangs penetrated the gaps in the links and pierced his flesh. He grimaced, lashed out with his sword and slew his assailant, but then fell to his knees gasping for breath and clutching at his throat.

The castle guardsmen instinctively started forward to join the knights. "Hold it!" Jack growled. "Your post is here. Stay with the wizards!" They obeyed.

Sir Nevalle, his sword red to the hilt with sarrukh blood, reeled back under the impact of a blow. A sarrukh followed up, dire mace raised to smite, but Callum stabbed up into its groin with his short-sword and the reptilian went down in a welter of gore. A mace descended on Sir Baedil's helm and shattered his skull. More blows thudded home as Baedil went down.

Jack squeezed off a single shot and drilled one of the sarrukh, who had been about to finish off Sir Damon, between the eyes. "Get the Hell out of the way, Nevalle!" he yelled.

"He's right," Callum agreed. He grabbed hold of the injured Sir Damon and began to drag him away. "Come on, Nevalle, help me with this damn fool."

Cierre loosed an arrow that passed a foot over Callum's head and hit an onrushing sarrukh. A crackling bolt of energy shot forth from Eltoora Sarptyl's fingers, streaked toward the melee, and struck one of the foe. The target reeled, fell to the ground, and writhed in obvious agony. The energy leapt to the next sarrukh, with the same result, and then to another and yet another. Two of the victims clambered to their feet and returned to the fight. The others shuddered from head to foot, jerked convulsively, and then lay still.

Sam saw an opening and let loose with a burst that dropped two of the enemy. Teal'c unleashed a blast from his staff weapon that tore a sarrukh's arm off at the shoulder. Daniel, perhaps less certain of his aim, held his fire.

Jack took four quick steps to the left and the knights were no longer in his way. He aimed low and opened up on full auto. He chopped the legs out from under three of the sarrukh and they fell into the hail of fire. Callum and Nevalle, no longer under direct attack, were able to carry Sir Damon away at speed.

Daniel's P-90 began to chatter. Sam fired three more short bursts, dropping a sarrukh with each one, and Teal'c blew apart one in the middle of what seemed to be the gestures of spell-casting.

And then all the sarrukh were down and motionless.

All of that squad, anyway. More could turn up at any time. Jack glanced at Sir Damon. The knight's face was swelling up and changing color ominously. His lips were turning blue and his breathing was a choking rasp. "Carter, Teal'c, Cierre, Tomi," Jack ordered, "guard that entrance. Oh, and if any of the lizards are still alive..." He really didn't want one of the bodies coming to life and biting someone in the leg with those venomous fangs.

He didn't need to finish the sentence. "Of course, Colonel," Cierre said. She exchanged her bow for her sword and headed for the corpses. Tomi was already holding his dagger. He grinned, nodded, and followed Cierre.

Jack turned back to the poisoned knight and saw that the scary priestess had gone to his side and was bending over him. "Linu," he said to the other priestess, "see if there's anything you can do for Baedil. Daelan, go with her." They obeyed.

The tattooed priestess gave Sir Damon a quick examination, pulling back his eyelids and peering into his eyes, looking into his mouth, and placing her fingers against his throat. "Mmm, this is… oddly satisfying," she remarked. "Not as much so as if it had been the other one, the rude knight, but not bad." She folded her right thumb and pinky finger against her palm, inverted her hand, and touched Sir Damon under the chin with the other three fingers. "Talona's Blessing be upon you," she said, and her hand glowed orange for a couple of seconds.

Sir Damon, who had looked as if he was about to die at any moment, sat up. His face was once more a healthy shade of tanned pink. He gasped in a long breath. "Thank you!" he said.

"Thank Talona," Sumia responded. "I am merely her instrument. Although," she added, "if I hadn't been here to be her instrument you'd have been dead inside two minutes."

"Then thank you, and thank your goddess," Sir Damon said.

"I gave you an extra benefit. You'll be immune to all poisons and diseases for the next three hours," the priestess informed him, and then she turned to face Jack. "Colonel O'Neill, perhaps I should cast the same spell upon you? I feel that it is in all our interests to maximize your chance of survival. With these… impetuous ones in command we'd all be dead already."

"Can you do it for everybody?" Jack asked.

Sumia shook her head. "I have an unlimited number of normal cures but only two more Blessings of Talona. Of course I am totally immune to venom myself."

"I don't like getting special treatment," Jack said. "Sharing the same dangers as everyone else keeps me sharp."

"You being put out of action for a few minutes could mean the difference between victory and defeat," Sharwyn said. "Take up her offer, Jack."

Jack pursed his lips as he considered. "Okay, go ahead," he said. He would have liked to request that Sumia gave the other… blessing… to Sam, or maybe Daniel, but he didn't want to appear to be playing favorites.

The tattooed woman stood in front of him, shaped her hand into the same formation as she had used to cast the spell upon Damon, and pressed her fingers into the flesh under Jack's jaw. "Talona's Blessing be upon you," she said again. Her fingers were hot on his skin and Jack felt a warm glow emanating from them and spreading through his whole body. "It is done," the priestess said. "For the next three hours no venom can affect you."

"Thanks," Jack said, "but forgive me if I don't go sticking my hand in the mouth of one of those sarrukh to test it out." He turned his attention to the recipient of her first cure. "Hey, Sir Damon, are you fit to fight now?"

"I am," the knight confirmed.

Jack narrowed his eyes and gave Damon a hard stare. "And you'll stick to the battle plan next time? And you, Nevalle?" He didn't mention Callum; he was pretty sure the dwarf had only gone with the others to try to save them from their own stupidity.

"I will." Damon averted his eyes.

"I acted rashly, I know," Nevalle said, "but it is how we are trained. Closing with the foe as fast as possible is good tactics against spellcasters and we are accustomed to being first into the fight. When Baedil and Damon charged I went with them by reflex."

"And got in the way," Jack said. "Don't do it again. Let the bullets and arrows be first into the fight. That's what they're for. Some of the enemy will get through soon enough. That's the time for swords. Right?"

"Indeed so," Nevalle agreed. "I shall not make the same mistake again."

Jack didn't belabor the point. "Linu," he said, turning away. "Any luck with Baedil?"

She and Daelan were heading back to the main group. Daelan carried Baedil's limp form in his arms. "I can do nothing for him," Linu reported. "Not even Raise him from the dead."

"I can do Resurrection," Sumia said, "and it would please me to have that ill-mannered one in my debt."

"I too can perform Resurrection," Linu said, "but I have to have something to work with." Daelan laid the body down. "See for yourself," Linu said.

Sumia looked. Jack followed her example and wished he hadn't. Baedil's skull had been pulverized and there wasn't a lot left of the head above the ears. Most of the brain seemed to be missing.

"_Heads that are empty, brains on the floor_," Sharwyn recited, her face seeming in the dim light to have acquired a greenish tinge. "_Can't take any more…_"

"I see what you mean," Sumia said. "I could raise him as a zombie but that's all." She turned to Nevalle and Damon, both of whom were drawing in breaths to speak, and shook her head. "Don't worry, I won't. It would serve no purpose."

"We don't leave anyone behind," Jack said, "not even dead. We take him with us."

"I have an empty Bag of Holding," Eltoora Sarptyl said, "as you have forced me to disburse my magical items. We can put him in there."

"Do it," Jack said, "and then we're out of here. This place is easy to defend, with there only being one way in, but if we stay and let them come to us then eventually they'll hit us with so many that they'll get past the guns. And if Morag is thawing out thirty-two more of them every hour time is on her side. We move on or we die."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

Disclaimer: song lyrics quoted by Sharwyn in this chapter come from 'Days of No Trust' by Magnum. Lyrics are used without the permission of the copyright holders and with no intent to profit from their use.


	8. Here Be Dragons

**Chapter Eight**

**Here Be Dragons**

Jack fired a short burst, more as a test than as an attack, but the bullets bounced off the wall of shields without effect. "Crap," he said. "Looks like they've come up with a counter-tactic that works." The mass of sarrukh warriors marched on; slowly, but inexorably.

"A testudo," Daniel said. "They're protected on all sides and from above too. We can't even lob grenades into the middle of the formation."

"It does look like a tortoise," Sir Nevalle agreed. The translation amulets must have turned the Latin name into its equivalent in everyday language. "We use that formation for attacking archery units and castle entrances with murder holes above. With enchanted tower shields, or highly polished normal ones, even many spells will be reflected."

"Probably best if we don't try Teal'c's staff weapon or zat on them, then," Jack said.

"We could roll grenades up to their feet," Sam suggested, "and they'd step over them before the grenades went off."

"It would only work once," Jack said. "I'd like to do something more… final."

"Their shields will not stop Cloudkill," the lady wizard put in. "I could kill at least a dozen of them and force the rest to break up their formation. You should get ready to take advantage."

Jack dredged up her name from his memory again. Elora Danan – no, that was the baby in the movie 'Willow'. Eltoora… something or other. "No, don't do that, Eltoora," he said. "The column fills the corridor and goes back around the bend out of sight. There must be more than a hundred of them. I've been waiting for the chance to kill a whole lot of them in one go and I think it's here. Fall back to the last big chamber. Teal'c, it's time to use my little toy."

"I do not think this is an occasion for recreation, O'Neill."

"I'm talking about the bomb… wait a minute, was that a joke?"

The corner of Teal'c's mouth lifted fractionally. "Indeed it was, O'Neill."

"Oh. Well, at least it was better than the one about the Setesh guard's dripping nose."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

Sam's eyes were fixed on the computer screen. "They're starting to enter the cavern now, sir," she reported. The Weeble was tucked away at one edge of the large chamber, protected from the forthcoming blast as much as was possible while still giving the cameras a good field of view, and the bomb was right in the middle.

"Good," Jack said. "As soon as they're all within the – crap!" He broke off as the sound of an explosion, much smaller than the one that would be produced by his home-made pipe bomb and in the opposite direction, reached his ears. "Uh-oh," he said. "We have company."

They had passed several side tunnels branching off from the route they had to take to reach Morag's HQ. They didn't have the manpower, or the time, to explore them for possible threats and so Jack had set Tomi and the demon girl to work rigging them with booby-traps. Partly to inflict damage on any approaching enemy force, but mainly to give a warning; grenades attached to tripwires were ideal for both purposes. Tomi and – Neeshka? Yes, that was right – had caught on to how to use grenades in mere seconds and had, enthusiastically and efficiently, done exactly what Jack had wanted. Some unsuspecting sarrukh warrior had just found out, probably terminally, just how efficiently.

Unfortunately it was at exactly the wrong time. "Crap," Jack said again. "We could be boxed in." The sounds of close combat, coming from back along the corridor, confirmed that the incursion hadn't been just a single sarrukh walking unaware into the grenade trap and getting his head blown off. "We can't risk getting pushed back nearer the bomb," Jack decided. He handed the detonator to Sam. "Time it to get as many of them as possible." She rolled her eyes, probably annoyed at him telling her something so blatantly obvious, but he didn't take time to apologize. "Daniel, Cierre, watch over Carter. Everyone else, with me."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

The sarrukh was seven feet tall, had steel blades strapped to its wrists that projected out like artificial claws two feet long, and attacked with berserk fury. Sharwyn blocked its slashes with her staff-sword but was driven back and had no chance to counter-attack. Her opponent opened its jaws to bite and lunged at her head. Jack put three bullets through the sarrukh's torso and dropped it in its tracks. Another one took its place immediately, swinging a dire mace at Sharwyn's head, and, before Jack could switch to the new target, yet another blade-wielding reptilian sent Sir Damon sprawling and leapt past him straight at Jack.

The muzzle of the P-90 was pointing in the wrong direction. If Jack had tried to swing it around the sarrukh warrior would have gutted him like a fish before the gun was aimed. Instead Jack used the weapon to block the steel claw that drove at his belly. He twisted aside as the creature lashed out with its other claw, used a bayonet-fighting stroke to parry the second blow as well, and then smashed the butt of the P-90 into the sarrukh's elbow. He followed through with the move, knocked the reptile's arm aside, and finished with the muzzle of the gun pointing directly at its abdomen. He would have been perfectly positioned for a bayonet thrust, if the P-90 had had such a thing; as it didn't, he simply pulled the trigger.

The sound of the shots was drowned out by a boom of cataclysmic proportions. Jack saw the sarrukh fall, three bullets through its chest, and spun back to face Sharwyn and the sarrukh that had been battering away at her. She didn't need his help. The reptilian was half-turned away from Sharwyn, its mouth hanging open in what was presumably an expression of surprise or alarm, and it was wide open to the thrust she delivered into its abdomen. She rammed the blade of the staff-sword home up to the wooden shaft and ripped it free. The sarrukh fell; killed by the distraction of the bomb.

It was the same story everywhere. The moment of distraction proved fatal to several of the sarrukh. Teal'c, as unflappable as a machine, slew one reptilian with a staff blast and crushed the rib-cage of a second with the butt of the weapon. Daelan took the legs out from under one, clove through another's skull, and then chopped down to finish off the one on the ground. Tomi slipped under the guard of a startled sarrukh and ripped open its belly from groin to… where its navel would have been if it had been a mammal.

The other Neverwinter natives weren't quite as prepared for the explosion as Sharwyn's crew, who had seen Earth weapons in operation several times before, but Jack's prior warning – "There's going to be a honking big bang" – did at least seem to have given them an advantage in their recovery time. Swords bit into reptilian flesh, High Priestess Sumia killed a sarrukh with a mere touch from her bare hand, and the wizard Durvur sent a stream of flaming darts from his fingers to impale two of the sarrukh. One died on the spot and the Neverwinter guardsmen fell on the other and hacked it to bits. Sir Damon, still prone from being knocked to the ground by a charging sarrukh, swung his sword and chopped through a sarrukh's leg at the ankle. Young Neeshka leapt on its back, as it fell, and cut its throat.

After another fifteen seconds of furious action all the sarrukh were down and motionless. Jack riddled the last two with bullets as they tried to flee. He felt no remorse; Maugrim had been obeying the sarrukh when he had SG-1 locked up and tortured, and the sarrukh had started their campaign against Neverwinter by unleashing a plague on the unsuspecting humans, and as far as Jack was concerned that put them in the same category as the Goa'uld. And dead sarrukh couldn't tell their comrades about SG-1's weapons and tactics and come back with better-prepared friends.

The humans had taken casualties. There were several minor injuries, one of the Neverwinter guardsmen was down and obviously dead, and another had lost a limb. One of the sarrukh wrist-blades had sheared through his forearm half-way between wrist and elbow.

The two priestesses made for the casualties; Sumia went to the dead man, Linu to the one who had lost his arm. "This one first," Linu said. "The dead won't get any worse."

"Indeed," Sumia agreed. She joined the other woman and picked up the severed forearm from the floor.

"You'll have to do the re-attaching," Linu told Sumia. "I'm too… clumsy to get it into the right place."

"I've noticed," Sumia replied. She took hold of the man's elbow with one hand and held the detached part of the arm against the bleeding wound. "Your mace is more of a hazard to your comrades than to your enemies. Although if you could knock this man unconscious, so that he stops moving around and moaning, this would be much easier."

Linu put her hand on the wounded man's forehead. "Be still," she commanded. He froze rigidly in place. The two women began to chant, not in unison but each uttering separate invocations, making it almost impossible for Jack to make out what they were saying.

Sumia released her grip on the guard's arm. The severed portion didn't fall off. "That should do it," she said. "You can take off the Hold now."

"Let your power of movement be restored," Linu said. "Now, wiggle your fingers. Check that everything works."

"I heard of a priestess who put an arm back the wrong way up once," Sumia remarked.

Linu blushed. "That was me," she confessed. "That's why I asked you to do the reattachment."

The guardsman, looking somewhat horrified, held his hand up in front of his face and flexed his fingers. His expression relaxed into one of relief. "Thank you, my Ladies," he said. "It's as good as new. I shall wield my sword once more in the service of Neverwinter."

"Next time you wield it you should disengage from the thrust with more speed," Sumia advised. She turned her attention to the other priestess. "Do you want to Raise the dead one, or shall I?"

"I'll do it," Linu said. "I don't need co-ordination for that." She waved a hand in the direction of the fallen guardsman. "Come back to life," she said. The corpse stirred and sat up.

Jack's jaw dropped. He made a conscious effort to close his mouth so that he wasn't standing around looking like Cletus the Slack-Jawed Yokel. He'd just witnessed an astounding medical miracle and now he'd seen someone raised from the dead. Yes, he'd known they had that ability, and he'd encountered someone who'd come back from being killed; in fact he had a strong suspicion that Vhonna had killed him at least once during the torture sessions and brought him back to life, but he hadn't seen the act before and he was amazed at how easily, almost casually, it was performed. It made the Nox's resurrection ritual seem laborious by comparison and the Goa'uld sarcophagi look like something out of a cargo cult.

"O…kay," Jack said. "As soon as everyone is patched up we're out of here. Link up with Carter and move on again. And watch your feet when we get back to the big chamber. It'll be pretty… messy."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

He was right. It was a scene of total carnage. He couldn't even estimate the number of the dead. Even the ceiling was dripping blood.

"They marched right over the bomb," Sam told him. "I detonated it inside their shield-wall. They didn't stand a chance."

"Better them than us," Jack said.

"Indeed," Teal'c said. "We have scored a great victory, O'Neill."

"Yeah, well, we still have a war to win, people," Jack said. His gaze fell on a sarrukh that had been sliced in half at the waist by a flying shield. He felt the meal that he'd eaten a couple of hours before, at the Moonstone Mask brothel, making an attempt to rise up and escape. He choked it back down. "Carter, did your Weeble make it?"

"It did, which was something of a surprise to me," Sam said. "It's a little dented, and one of the cameras has died, but it's still usable."

"Good. We might need it again. Are all these definitely dead?"

"A few of them, who must have been at the edges, came out of it alive," Sam said. "Cierre made sure they were dead."

"_Bang bang Maxwell's silver hammer made sure that they were dead_," Sharwyn sang to herself. "Jack," she went on, "next time we see one of their wizards, don't shoot it, okay? Leave it to me."

Jack had found that the best tactics against sarrukh wizards was to start shooting at them as soon as they came into sight. They either died, which was mission accomplished, or else they went intangible in the same way as Maugrim had. They couldn't stay intangible for long, however, and their offensive spells didn't have the range of the P-90s. By the time the wizards could close to attacking range their protections were wearing off, and they could be shot, or else, if their protective infantry had been taken out, the Neverwinter sword-fighters could get to them and hack them to pieces.

"Why?" Jack asked. "The way we're doing it works."

"I need to recharge my spells," Sharwyn said. "If I cast Spell Trap then anything they throw at me will get converted into energy I can use. You keep killing them too quickly."

"That's not a complaint I'm used to hearing," Jack said. "Usually killing dangerous enemies as fast as possible is a good thing. But, yeah, it would be nice to have you back at full power. I'll take it into consideration." He turned to the group as a whole. "Okay, people, time to move on. Try not to step in any blood or… worse things."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

The door that blocked their path was twenty feet high and built out of solid balks of timber that looked as if they would resist cannon shot. "Haedraline said there was going to be some kind of guardian here, watching over the entrance to Morag's chambers," Daniel said, "but it wasn't in residence the last time she came this way, so she couldn't tell me anything more."

"I think it's in position now," Jack said, "and I'll bet the guardian isn't just some guy with a clip-board checking visitor IDs. Let's not walk through Door Number One until we know a little more. Carter, will the Weeble fit under that door?"

Sam opened up her lap-top, established the link to the cameras, and held the device down to the gap beneath the timbers. "I can't make anything out from this angle, sir," she said. "I'll have to push it through and hope that it ends up facing the right way. There's a blind spot now that one of the cameras is dead."

"Do it, Carter," Jack said.

Sam tilted the Weeble over on its side and gave it a hard shove. It slid under the door and skittered away. The image windows on her screen became a dizzying blur and then eventually stabilized. "That's better," Sam said. "Ah, good. No sign of the door in the picture so it looks as if we've lucked out. The dead lens must be facing this way. So, let's…." Her voice tailed away.

"What the Hell is that?" Jack asked. One of the windows showed a huge clawed foot, and above it a mighty leg covered in scales, and then something else came into view. A section of a wing.

"A dragon," Sharwyn said. "This is… not good."

"A dragon? Really? Fascinating." Daniel sounded almost pleased.

"No, not _a_ dragon," Sharwyn said, as a second moving object appeared in the screen's other window. "Two dragons."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

"So how tough is it going to be?" Jack asked. "You killed a dragon before, Cierre, right?"

"Two, in fact, although not at the same time," Cierre confirmed, "but one was young and weak. When I fought the ancient red dragon, Klauth, I had an edge. Klauth was draining the life force from other dragons to increase his own strength. Tomi switched his Ritual Sphere for one holding the essence of a dead dragon. It drained his life energy, instead of replenishing it, and he was badly hurt before I even struck a blow."

"Damn. So, not something we can do here."

"I know a song that can wrap a dragon up in chains," Sharwyn said. "I've never done it myself but Giles used it several times. Unfortunately I don't think I can amend it to deal with two dragons. Not when I'm down below full strength, anyway."

"I should have asked General Hammond for more rocket launchers," Jack said. "Teal'c, how effective do you think your staff weapon will be against something that big?"

"It is difficult to gauge their size from those images, O'Neill," Teal'c said. "There is nothing in view against which to judge the scale."

"Klauth was almost a hundred feet long, but he was extremely large for his kind," Cierre said. "Those two look like a silver and a copper to me. They are smaller than red dragons. Silver dragons are perhaps seventy-five feet long at most, copper dragons rarely more than sixty."

"Hard to tell, from the pictures, but I'd say the two of them look to be about the same size," Sam said.

"Copper and silver dragons are Good," Sir Nevalle put in. "They would not work with the evil Old Ones. They must be prisoners. We should release them rather than fighting them."

"That doesn't sound right," Jack said. "They keep dangerous prisoners here, right on the route to the leader's HQ, with no way in that doesn't pass through this place? I don't buy it."

"This simple lock would never hold them," Sharwyn said, indicating the latch, "unless they are here willingly or their minds have been dulled by dark magics."

"All dragons were the enemies of the Old Ones," Sumia said, "whether Good or Evil. I suspect that these ones are slaves, bent to their will, either by magic or by torture."

"Like Maugrim was trying to do to us," Jack said. "Any chance you could break the conditioning?"

Sharwyn, Sumia, Linu, and Eltoora all exchanged glances. "I fear not," Eltoora said. "Dragons are highly resistant to magic. Anything that has overcome that resistance will not be dispelled easily."

"So it looks as if we'll have to do it the hard way," Jack said. "T, buddy, take it that they're, say, fifty-five, maybe sixty, feet long. What do you think?"

"I fear that the staff weapon will inflict only superficial wounds upon beasts of such size, O'Neill," Teal'c said, "especially if the metallic appearance of the scales is an accurate representation of their composition. Part of the energy could be reflected from the surface and be wasted."

"The scales are indeed metallic and they can reflect some spells," Eltoora confirmed.

"Then my staff weapon will not suffice," Teal'c said. "I suspect that my zat'nik'tel will be similarly impotent against these… dragons."

"The P-90s aren't exactly designed for taking out something the size of a bus," Jack said, "so it looks like we'll have to use grenades. Probably quite a few to take down those big mothers. We don't have all that many left and I'd intended holding some back in case we need them against Morag."

"Could we, uh, sneak past them invisibly?" Daniel suggested.

"Dragons can detect invisible creatures," Eltoora told him.

"I could get myself past them," Sharwyn said. "I can make myself not only invisible but completely undetectable. Alas, I cannot extend that screen to cover others and, alone, I could achieve nothing against Morag. Unless…" Her forehead creased. "Our mission is not common knowledge, and therefore secret," she mused. "You are military, Jack, and I am in your service, at least for the time being, am I not?"

"Yeah," Jack agreed. "And your point is?"

"If I am working secretly for the military then I can kill Morag and all with her," Sharwyn said. "_A sound that could kill someone at a distance…_ Unfortunately it would kill everything in this cavern complex including us. _We won't be there to be blamed…_ Very much something to use only as a last resort."

Jack swallowed. "I don't think we're anywhere near that point yet," he said. "Save it for if we're surrounded, out of ammunition, and just about to die. There are plenty of other things we can try first. Like, maybe you could call that angel, Egeria, again?"

"She could kill one dragon, certainly, but perhaps not two at once," Sharwyn said. "Also she might be angered by Linu's presence. I'd rather not risk it."

"I could poison a couple of the Old One corpses," Sumia suggested. "We throw them in, the dragons eat them, and then they die."

"Dragons do not easily succumb to poison," Eloora said.

"Mine is no common poison," Sumia said. "It is probable, however, that they have been forbidden to molest the Old Ones. That prohibition may extend to dead bodies also. The only way to find out is to try."

"Poison, poison," Sharwyn muttered. "_Your cruel device_ – no, wait, Church of the Poison Mind. That's it! We could poison their minds against each other. Make them fight. Whichever one won would be badly injured and vulnerable."

"Sounds good," Jack said. "Can you do it?"

Sharwyn half-closed her eyes and her forehead wrinkled up. She pursed her lips. "I think so," she said, after a moment. "It will take me a while to think of a suitable song, I'm afraid. Nothing immediately comes to mind. 'Love is a battlefield', perhaps? No, not quite right. Also, dragons are surrounded by an aura of primal fear. I will need to sing a song that will counter it or our men may break and flee. Our priestesses will not be able to shield such a large number without my help."

"I think that I and Durvur, working together, can achieve the desired end and turn the dragons against each other," Eltoora said. "We need not affect both to be successful. If we can get one to attack the other its victim will fight back even if we have not reached its mind."

"Great," Jack said. "Go for it."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

"It's like Jurassic Park III," Jack commented. "The part with the big one with the sail on its back versus the T-Rex."

"That wasn't an accurate portrayal," Daniel said. "_Spinosaurus_ _Aegyptiacus_ was probably a fish-eater and it didn't have a powerful enough bite to kill a _Tyrannosaurus Rex_."

Jack ignored Daniel's quibbles. "The copper-colored one's going down," he said. "Time for us to make our move."

Teal'c and Daelan threw open the heavy doors. The group advanced through them, Jack in the lead, and faced the dragons. The silver one, slightly the larger of the two, was engaged in tearing out the throat of the fallen copper. It noticed the newcomers, let go of the other dragon, and opened its jaws to utter a bellowing roar. White vapor, a super-cooled gas according to what the locals had said, billowed from its nose and mouth and poured slowly down to the ground.

Jack had taken the M79 back from Teal'c. It was loaded with a HE-DP grenade. The open mouth was an irresistible target and Jack raised the weapon, took aim, and fired.

The grenade flew true. It struck the gaping maw, went in, and exploded. The dragon's skull split apart and the colossal creature toppled to the ground.

"Magnificent!" Sir Nevalle exclaimed. "You are an excellent marksman, Colonel O'Neill."

"That was more luck than judgment," Jack confessed, as he lowered the M79. "This weapon isn't the most accurate in the world. I was aiming at the mouth, yeah, but I'd have been happy hitting it anywhere around the head. A one-shot kill is way better than I expected."

"_And I won't back down_." Sharwyn brought her song to an end, placed her guitar on the ground, and turned to face Jack. "You're too modest, Jack. It was a superb shot and you deserve a reward." She came right up to Jack, threw her arms around him, and hugged him close.

It wasn't exactly unpleasant. He could smell blood, smoke, and sweat, Sharwyn hadn't had any chances to bathe lately, but also the scent of a warm woman. Her firm but yielding breasts pressed against his chest and he could feel the heat of her body all the way down to his… groin. It took about three-fifths of a second for his body to react.

And then Sharwyn reached up to his head, pulled it down to hers, and kissed him.

It would have been so easy to return the kiss. Sharwyn was beautiful, charming, intelligent, courageous, and downright sexy. There was only one down side.

She wasn't Carter.

Jack didn't respond to her lips or her probing tongue. He stood rock-still. After a couple of seconds Sharwyn released her grip, stopped the kiss, and stepped back. Her smile faded away. She turned her head, looking toward where Sam was watching with her face set in an absolute lack of any expression, and then turned back to Jack.

"It seems I have made a mistake, Colonel O'Neill," Sharwyn said. "Forgive me." Her tone was neutral, devoid of emotion, but Jack was sure she was a long, long, way from being happy. She spun around, went over and retrieved her guitar, and slung it over her shoulder. "We waste time. The way is clear. We can now strike at Morag." She strode off without looking back.

Jack let out a long breath and followed.

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

"Handcarts," Jack said. He used a foot to shove a sarrukh corpse out of the way and bent to stare more closely at the vehicle. "What the Hell are they moving around on handcarts?"

"It's a little late to ask them, Jack," Daniel pointed out.

"I could Speak With Dead if you believe it to be important," Sumia offered.

Jack shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Whatever they were going to collect is just going to stay where it is."

"The sleepers, I'll bet," Sam said. "There are sixteen carts and they wake sixteen every half-hour. These guys were going to bring a batch from out of those stone columns, take them to Morag, and she'd have woken them up."

"Not a very efficient way of doing it," Jack said. "It would be a lot quicker if she went to them."

Daniel touched an index finger to his lips. "It's a status thing, Jack," he said. "She's a semi-divine queen. She'd lose face if she went running around doing her own errands."

"Maybe there's some fixed installation that does the actual awakening," Sam said. "If there is, and we wreck it, then that takes them out of the game for good. Neverwinter will be safe."

There was a murmur of approving words from the Neverwinter soldiers. "Let us, then, attack at once," Sir Nevalle said.

Jack nodded. "If they were expecting us they wouldn't have sent a bunch of lackeys out with these carts and not much in the way of weapons. Either Morag hasn't heard that we're here or else she thought we couldn't get past the dragons. We'd better hit her before she catches on that she's wrong."

"Remember that Egeria warned us that we must leave Morag until last," Sharwyn said.

"I'd interpret that as meaning that we won't be able to kill her until her retinue is dead," Daniel said. "I don't think that putting a few bullets through her beforehand will do any harm."

"If we can even recognize her," Sam said. "All these… things look alike to me."

"She's an evil queen, Carter," Jack said. "Think of the Goa'uld. You can always spot the one in charge. Gold, jewels, silks, all the best weapons and technology."

"Good point, sir," Sam said.

"I have seen her projected image," Daelan said. "She is taller than most Old Ones and wears a crown tipped with many long spikes. More spikes project from her armor, rising high from her back and her shoulders, and sticking out from her wrists and arms."

"Great," Jack said. "Half lizard, half porcupine. She should be pretty recognizable."

"According to Haedraline's map Morag will be just past that door," Daniel said. "Through the archway tastefully styled to represent the mouth of a fanged serpent."

"Damn, it's flush to the ground and the walls," Jack said. "No room to get the Weeble through. Sharwyn, would you do that thing where you can see into the next room?"

"I could, Colonel O'Neill," Sharwyn said, "but I'm still a little low on power. I'd rather use what I have for something else. I'm sure Eltoora or Durvur will have Clairvoyance prepared."

Jack frowned. He didn't think Sharwyn was the kind of person who would stop giving her all to the mission because she was pissed that he'd turned her down, but he could be wrong; her sudden change from calling him 'Jack' to using 'Colonel O'Neill' might be an indication that she saw herself as a woman scorned.

"Clairvoyance, you say? Certainly," Durvur offered. "I will inform you of what I see."

"Thanks," Jack said.

Gandalf Lite went through some kind of ritual, waving his arms around like a character in a bad kung fu movie, and then he held a glass eye up to his face and peered into it. "Ah," he said. "It seems that the room beyond the door is not, in fact, Morag's chamber. It is a small room, almost bare, empty apart from… six, seven… eight Old One warriors. There is a further door on the far side. Beyond it is a small, empty, room and then a set of double doors. I cannot see beyond those doors. I suspect that they are warded against scrying."

"Haedraline must have skimped on the details," Daniel said. "A guardroom, I presume."

Durvur nodded. "The warriors seem to be impressive physical specimens, taller and broader than the ones we have fought thus far, and they wear partial armor of chain mail," he said. "No doubt they are Morag's elite guards."

"Eight of them," Jack mused. "I'd like to keep the advantage of surprise when we hit Morag. Think you can take them without our guns?" He raised an eyebrow and looked at the close combat experts.

"Of course," Sir Nevalle stated.

"We can but try," said Daelan.

"I do not know their capabilities and so can make no firm promise," Cierre said. "I would be surprised if we cannot defeat them, however." A half-smile flickered across her lips. "Possibly fatally surprised."

"Wise words, lassie," Callum said. "I think we can do it, Colonel O'Neill. You can always use your… effective but noisy… weapons to tip the odds if we are outmatched."

"Luckily there's an intermediate stage," Jack said. "Teal'c's zat."

"Indeed, O'Neill," Teal'c said. "I shall use my zat'nik'tel upon those we cannot immediately engage in mêlée combat or upon any who gain the upper hand."

"Right," Jack said. "The lead element will be Cierre, Daelan, Sir Nevalle, Sir Damon, Callum, and Teal'c. Tomi, Neeshka, you follow them in and try to get behind the lizards. I'll go next with Carter, Sharwyn, Sumia, and Linu. Everyone else, wait here."

Swords slid from scabbards. Teal'c drew his zat and turned it on. The barrel rose into firing position, the active zat resembling a snake poised to strike, and Jack noticed Eltoora staring intently at the alien weapon. Studying it. He couldn't imagine that she could work out the principles behind a zat just from looking at it but, even so, something about her expression made him uncomfortable.

"Ready?" A chorus of assent came in response to Jack's question. "Okay, go!"

Daelan threw the door open. Cierre was first through, with the Neverwinter knights only a step behind, followed by Daelan and Teal'c. Jack heard the sound of swords meeting steel and biting into flesh, Daelan shouting his battle-cry "Rage of the Red Tiger!", and then the 'zap' of Teal'c's zat. Not quite as silent as Jack had intended but at least it was a lot quieter than gunshots.

The two thieves slipped through the doorway and moved out of sight. Jack advanced until he could see inside the other room and find out what was going on.

Three of the sarrukh lay still on the floor. One was unmarked, presumably a victim of Teal'c's zat, and the other two were obvious corpses bearing gaping wounds from sword or axe blows. Four of the remaining five were engaged in combat, swinging double-headed maces or wrist blades against their human opponents. The final sarrukh was unarmed. Its skin was a mottled grey instead of green, like the magical protective shielding some of Maugrim's wizards had used, and Sir Damon's sword strokes were bouncing off it with no visible effect.

"Rise, Morag's fallen," it said, "and kill your slayers in her name."

The corpses arose. The wounds healed, even as they climbed to their feet, and they returned to the fray immediately. The zat victim, however, stayed down. Unconscious, not dead, and therefore unaffected.

"Rats," Jack said. He advanced into the room but held his fire. "Somebody kill that… turbulent priest."

Sir Damon was doing his best to obey but was achieving nothing more than blocking Teal'c's line of fire with the zat. Behind the reptilian priest Tomi and Neeshka appeared and began to stab it in the back. Tomi's dagger and Neeshka's short-sword struck home again and again.

"This is so exciting," Neeshka squealed as she stabbed. "I'm fighting alongside genuine heroes." The grey skin of the sarrukh priest suddenly turned green. Jack saw Neeshka pulling her sword back from a thrust with its blade red to the hilt. The priest sagged at the knees. Tomi's blade glinted between the reptilian's legs, slashing at an artery, and blood gushed out onto the floor. Sir Damon brought his sword down on its head and split its skull open.

"Victory!" Cierre cried. The head of her opponent rolled on the ground and its truncated body toppled. Daelan smashed a sarrukh warrior to the ground and Callum rammed his sword into its chest. Sir Nevalle ran one through, Teal'c swung his staff weapon one-handed and knocked a sarrukh to the ground, and with his other hand Teal'c zatted one of the newly-risen former corpses. Ten seconds later all of the sarrukh guards were down and, this time, they weren't going to be getting up again.

"Nice work, people," Jack praised. He trained his P-90 on the far door of the chamber. If the sounds of the conflict had reached Morag and her retinue, and guards came to investigate, he was going to welcome them with hot lead.

"You have earned the sword, child," Cierre said to Neeshka. "You may keep it."

"Wow, thanks," Neeshka said, grinning widely. "This is great! A magic sword, with an actual name, and it's mine."

"Magic…" Sharwyn mused. "Of course. These," she gestured at where Teal'c was delivering second zat blasts to his victims to turn their unconsciousness into death, "were not Morag's elite guards. I detect nothing stronger than basic enchantments from their weapons. No greater than plus one on the Xander Scale. Her personal guard would be better-equipped. Significantly so."

"And they're behind that door," Jack said. "We'd better get ready for a tough fight." He tilted his head to one side and stared at Sharwyn. "The Xander Scale?"

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

"I shall cast Heroism on us all before we go in, Colonel O'Neill," Sharwyn said. "It will have no great effect on those who are already highly skilled warriors, such as you or me, but the soldiers from the castle, and young Neeshka, will be brought almost up to our level."

"Sounds good," Jack said. "We could use all the edge we can get."

"There are similar benefits that Durvur and I could bestow upon all of us," Eltoora said. Sumia and Linu chimed in with their own offers.

"Mine will take longer, but also last longer," Sharwyn said. "Delay your buffing spells until I have cast mine." She brought her guitar into playing position, as the wizards and priestesses signified their agreement, but then paused with her fingers over their strings. "If I could think of the right words I would make it Super-Heroism, bringing all of us up to the standard of some of the mightiest heroes of Faerûn, but I've been wracking my brains since we came through the portal and I haven't got it right yet. Is there a… collective noun for your team, Colonel O'Neill?"

"There is," Jack said. "SG-1."

Sharwyn grimaced. "I was hoping for something with only one syllable," she said, "but at least it's shorter than listing your names. One, shone, gone… no, no usable rhymes there… ah, wait, friends, mends, bends – sends! I have it. One moment… yes, that will do." She smiled as she trailed her fingers lightly over the guitar strings. "There will be a reaction afterward," she warned. "When it wears off we will be exhausted. Too weak, perhaps, to fight effectively."

"How long does it last?"

"The weakness?"

"No," Jack said, shaking his head. "The being a superhero part."

"Oh." Sharwyn pursed her lips. "With this many… an hour and a half, maybe two hours."

"That should be plenty long enough," Jack said. "Go for it."

Sharwyn struck a chord and began her tune. It wasn't a rock number, as Jack was expecting, but a march that he'd heard played by military bands; especially British ones, but never with these lyrics.

"_Some talk of Sorkatani_," Sharwyn sang,

"_And some of Azoun IV,_

_Of Drizzt and Elminster_

_And the Knights of Myth Drannor,_

_But of all the world's great heroes_

_There are none who can outshine_

_SG-1 and friends,_

_Those who Nasher sends,_

_And the Neverwinter Nine_."

"I feel no different," Durvur said. "It seems your spell has failed."

"I haven't cast it yet," Sharwyn responded. "That was merely… setting the parameters." Her fingers began to dance again, using only the bass strings, pounding out a rhythm that Jack thought he recognized. After a couple of bars she switched to using her thumb on the bass strings and flicked out her fingers to strike the treble strings. Her left hand seemed almost to blur as she kept up the bass line while simultaneously playing a melody; high notes that went on and on, stretching out to an extent that should have been impossible from an acoustic instrument.

Jack nodded to himself. Yes, he had recognized the tune, and he remembered seeing it performed on TV at the Freddie Mercury Tribute concert, with Mick Ronson of the Spiders From Mars, visibly showing signs of the illness that would kill him a year later, playing those same sustained notes. And Bowie singing.

"_I_," Sharwyn began, "_I will be king  
And you, you will be queen  
Though nothing will drive them away  
We can beat them, just for one day  
We can be heroes  
Just for one day…_"

Jack felt a surge of energy flooding through him. He was… fired up. Ready for anything. His vision was sharper, his hearing more acute, and the weaponry he was carrying was suddenly virtually weightless. He couldn't resist tossing out a movie quote. "I can see things no-one else can see, do things no-one else can do."

"It's all in the reflexes, Jack," Daniel chimed in. He took off his glasses and stowed them away in a pocket.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "I didn't think 'Big Trouble in Little China' was your type of movie, Daniel."

"Are you kidding? I love that movie," Daniel replied.

"Next time we have a movie night, it's on the list," Jack said. "Here's to the Army and the Navy, the battles they have won; here's to America's colors, the colors that never run. May the wings of liberty never lose a feather."

Daniel grinned. "You ready, Jack?"

Jack brought his P-90 to the high port position and grinned back. "I was born ready."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

The final door guarded its secrets well. Some kind of shield on it blocked the wizards' Clairvoyance spells, the keyhole didn't go all the way through, and there was no gap through which Sam's Weeble could be inserted. The only way to find out what lay beyond the door was to open it.

It turned out that what lay behind Door Number One was… Morag. Or at least an image of her.

"You are powerful, for human slaves," the projection said.

Jack replied by shooting Morag twice in the face, just in case his assessment of it as a hologram was incorrect, and met with exactly the reaction he expected. No effect whatsoever except that the holographic image wavered slightly around the points of impact. He walked straight through the hologram, ignoring the speech it was delivering in typical Evil Overlord style, and went full auto on the sarrukh warriors beyond. Beside him Sam and Daniel did the same, Teal'c opened fire with his staff weapon, and the locals fired crossbow bolts and arrows.

The real Morag was fifty yards away, across a stone courtyard, standing behind her soldiers. Some of the missiles hit her, as the warriors in front of her fell dead, but they simply bounced off. She raised her hands and sent bolts of electricity streaking toward the human intruders.

Eltoora and Durvur retaliated in kind. Morag's bolts fizzled out as they hit the shields, force fields or whatever, that the mages had put up; the bolts aimed at Morag hit, and seemed to sink into her, but had no effect.

Beyond Morag there was an enclosure, fairly large, divided off from the main chamber by a ten-foot high stone wall. There was a gap in the wall, maybe twenty feet across, with a stone statue just in front of the middle of the opening. The statue looked as if it could be meant to be a primitive ancestor of the sarrukh, crouching on all fours, with a crest rising from the middle of its back like something out of a Discovery Channel show about the reptiles that came just before the dinosaurs. One ugly mother. On the far side of the statue, through the gap, Jack could see a whole bunch of sarrukh kneeling in a circle. Colored lights played around their heads. Jack couldn't hear much over the noise of gunfire but he'd be prepared to bet that they were chanting.

A lightning bolt shot upward from one of the kneeling reptilians. It coincided exactly with a bolt hitting Morag.

"They're protecting her," Daniel deduced, as the rest of the Neverwinter party entered the chamber and fanned out. "It's some kind of ritual. We have to kill them to take down her shields."

"Ya think?" Jack said. The wall would give them protection from P-90 fire but he'd kept hold of the grenade launcher after taking down the dragon. He started to change over his weapons, to lob a grenade into the enclosure, but before he could get the M79 into firing position there was movement in the gap. Not new enemies, or the praying sarrukh getting up, but a barrier of slashing swords that were wielded by no living hands.

Morag began to stride toward the humans. She was big, about eight feet tall even not counting her helmet spikes, and she came on like a T-Rex chasing Jeff Goldblum.

One of the wizards, Jack didn't see which one, threw a Fireball at the circle of kneeling reptilians. The wall of swords obscured his view too much to see if it had caused any casualties.

Tomi popped up, seemingly from nowhere, at Jack's side. "Blast the statue, boss," he said. "Bet it's where the Blade Barrier is coming from."

"That seems logical," Jack said, and he aimed the M79 and fired. He scored a direct hit but the fragmentation grenade didn't shatter the statue. The stone chipped and cracked but remained intact. The swords kept on stabbing and slashing away.

Morag broke her stride, still ten yards short of Jack and the others, and waved her arms. "Come forth, my Hands," she called, in tones of command.

Jack felt a fleeting urge to point out that they were on the ends of her arms. He suppressed the urge and carried on reloading the grenade launcher. Suddenly a clawed hand lashed out of nowhere and knocked it from his hands.

"Holy crap!" Jack jumped back as the hand struck again. There was a huge sarrukh warrior right in front of him. It held a massive double-bladed axe in its other hand. Flames licked up from the steel blade. The sarrukh pulled back the hand with which it had grabbed at Jack and took a two-handed grip on the axe haft. It raised the axe and took a swing.

Jack had no idea how the creature had gotten so close without warning. It hadn't approached invisibly; Tomi had been scanning the area ahead through his little gem and couldn't have missed it. He dodged away from the axe blow and, as he moved, saw that there were more of the sarrukh warriors all along the line. Some axe-wielders and some using pairs of short-swords. Getting up close and personal with the wizards and the other members of SG-1. Exactly what he'd wanted to avoid.

Well, Jack knew, like the German general said, no battle plan ever survives first contact with the enemy. Everybody knew what they were supposed to do. Jack would just have to leave them to get on with it and concentrate on staying alive.

Tomi was fighting the sarrukh, pitting his dagger against the huge axe, and he was holding his own. Dodging as the axe swept down, stepping in and stabbing, and then dodging again as his knife glanced harmlessly from the reptilian's armored torso and the axe swung once more.

Jack swung up his P-90 on its sling, pointed the muzzle at the axe-wielder, and fired. Holes appeared in the armor but that was all. Damn protective magic. He gave it another burst, letting the recoil walk the fire up the body to the head, and was rewarded by a slight change in the creature's skin color and a blossom of blood on the side of its jaw.

Tomi stabbed it again, driving his blade through one of its forearms, and the sarrukh lost its grip on the axe with that hand and the blow it was delivering went wide.

Jack brought the gun barrel down and fired again. He shot it directly in one of its eyes and it went down like a felled tree.

Jack looked around to size up the situation. The sarrukh warriors had done some damage. Durvur the wizard was a headless corpse on the floor. Two of the Neverwinter guardsmen were down too. He saw Callum the dwarf and Sir Nevalle working together to knock a sarrukh down and hack it to pieces, saw Daelan battering away at one and driving it back, and then he saw Daniel, his P-90 nowhere to be seen, grappling with one of the reptilians.

Jack sidestepped, trying to get a clear line for a shot, and then he saw Daniel's hand come up holding his Beretta. He shoved the barrel into the sarrukh's gaping mouth and pulled the trigger repeatedly. The back of its head burst open, blood and brains splattered the floor behind it, and it toppled.

Cierre was fighting two opponents; one of the few survivors of the original sarrukh infantry to have made it through the hail of fire and reached the human line, and one of the elite warriors who had been teleported, or whatever, to them by Morag. She killed the ordinary sarrukh but, simultaneously, the big one stabbed her in the stomach. Cierre wobbled on her feet but struck back. Her hand-axe glanced from the sarrukh's neck. It gave a fanged grin and ripped its sword free in a welter of blood. Cierre staggered back and her sword and axe fell from her hands. The triumphant sarrukh turned away to deal with an attack from Sir Damon.

Jack couldn't fire without risking hitting his own side. Before he could decide what to do he saw Cierre's left hand go up to her back, pull free her spare sword, and then bring it down in a savage strike to the back of the sarrukh's head. Her previous axe stroke must have broken the sarrukh's protections and the sword cleaved through bone and split the reptile's skull apart.

"Victory!" Cierre cried, and then dropped to her knees in a pool of blood.

Jack returned to sizing up the situation. He saw that Morag was now fighting hand-to-hand with a stranger; a tall man in black, wearing a cape but no armor, who seemed to be trying to bite her. Jack had no idea where the guy had come from but any help was welcome. If Morag was really unkillable right now she could do an awful lot of damage. Keeping her busy, while they worked on getting rid of her protections so they could blow the prehistoric bitch's head off, was definitely a good idea.

Sumia had gone to Cierre's aid. The rest of the human force was getting the upper hand now and the sarrukh warriors were going down. Jack retrieved his grenade launcher from the floor and picked up where he had left off.

He loaded the M79 with a HE-DP round. It would be better suited to blowing the statue apart than a normal fragmentation grenade. Of course he could go over there and use what was left of his C4 to destroy it but he had a feeling Morag would take violent exception to that and, if she was invulnerable, the others wouldn't really be able to protect him. Better to do it at a distance.

As he closed the breech of the M79 he saw Morag punch her hand through the chest of the man in black and rip out his heart. He didn't drop dead; he seemed to disintegrate and turn into a small cloud of white mist.

In his place, as the mist drifted away, there appeared… an angel. Another winged girl, like Egeria, but this one wasn't dressed as a biker chick. Blue and white flowing robes, a golden circlet at her brow, and wings of pure white. Much more the traditional angel; although definitely a warrior, as she bore a shield and held a mace.

She ignored Morag. Instead she headed directly for… Sharwyn. She lashed out with her mace and Sharwyn was forced to defend herself with her staff-sword.

"No!" Linu yelled. "What are you doing? She's my friend. Attack Morag, you idiot!"

Morag, now free to act, began to wave her arms again. She took no notice of a hail of gunfire from Daniel that bounced off her armored body. "Come forth, servants of the Old Ones," she called.

"Crap," Jack said. "This can't be good." He held his fire; destroying the statue, and opening the way to the priests or whatever they were who were protecting Morag, could wait until he saw what she was summoning up this time. It might well be something that would make a better target for the grenade.

It was, or rather they were; two huge creatures rose up seemingly from out of the floor, forty yards away, and advanced. One of them was about ten feet tall, grey-skinned, and built like a gorilla on steroids. It had a wide mouth, filled with teeth like those of the rubber shark in the crappy Jaws sequels, and six eyes arranged in vertical lines down the sides of its face.

The other creature looked even more like an arch-enemy of Spider-Man. Not quite as tall but even broader, bipedal but with a carapace like a beetle, and with huge mandibles like a soldier ant's jaws.

"Jack!" Sharwyn yelled. "Kill the Umber Hulk! Quickly!"

She was still engaged in a desperate struggle against the angel, only barely holding her own, and if she gave priority to warning about something else then Jack was damn well going to take her seriously. The only snag was that he didn't know which one of the two monsters she meant. "Which…?" he began, and then he saw the angel hit Sharwyn so hard that, even though she parried the blow, she was knocked to her knees. It didn't look as if she would be able to answer any time soon. Jack decided that the grey monster was the one that looked most like the Incredible Hulk and he chose that as his target.

The HE-DP grenade struck the creature squarely in the middle of the chest and went off. It blasted a foot-wide hole through the massive body and killed it instantly.

"Wrong one!" Sharwyn screamed.

Almost at the same time Linu shouted at the angel again. "You're attacking the wrong one! Stop it!" The winged girl ignored her and kicked Sharwyn in the face. Daelan came up behind the angel and swung his axe. She whirled around, blocked with her shield, and then bludgeoned Daelan to the ground.

Jack let the M79 drop and grabbed his P-90 again. That was quicker than reloading the grenade launcher. He brought it up to his shoulder and then realized that Morag was pointing something that looked disturbingly like a staff weapon straight at him. He dived aside just as she fired. A bolt of blue energy shot from the staff, missed him by inches, and hit Neeshka. She screamed and collapsed.

"Angel came…" Sharwyn gasped out. Linu gave up on trying to convince the angel that she was attacking the wrong side and charged with her mace. The angel back-handed her so hard that Linu flew twenty feet through the air, crashed to the ground, and lay motionless.

Morag fired again and felled Sir Damon. Teal'c fired his staff weapon and hit the giant insectoid thing. It reeled, obviously badly hurt, and then began to charge at Teal'c with a fast loping gait.

"…down from heaven…" Sharwyn sang. The angel attacked her again and forced her to break off her song.

Jack rolled, avoiding yet another blast from Morag, and took cover behind the corpse of a sarrukh warrior. He lined the P-90 and opened fire at the big humanoid insect. It halted its charge, reared up, and faced him. Teal'c fired again and hit it between the mandibles. It staggered away with smoke coming out of its mouth.

There was a 'pop' of displaced air. Jack whirled around to face whatever had made the sound. His eyebrows shot up and his jaw dropped.

It was seven feet of naked girl. She was dripping wet, had a towel wrapped turban-fashion around her hair, and held a sword in one hand and a second towel in the other. Wings sprouted from her back, covered in dove-grey feathers, and only then did Jack recognize her.

"I was in the _bath_," Egeria complained, and then she fixed her gaze on the other angel. "Get away from her, Deione, or I'll hurt you."

"Rise, my children, and slay your slayers," Morag commanded. Behind her the sarrukh infantry, mown down by gunfire in the first attack, rose to their feet. Three of her elite guardsmen arose as well; the ones shot through the head, the one killed by Cierre's sword cleaving its skull, and a couple who had been hacked apart by axes and swords until there was little left of them, stayed down. The hand-to-hand fighting began again.

"Traitor," the angel Deione growled. "I shall slay you."

"You call _me_ a traitor? You were summoned here to fight the Queen of the Old Ones, were you not? What do you think you're playing at?"

Sam riddled the wounded Umber Hulk with bullets and put it down. Teal'c fired his staff weapon again; this time his target was the statue, already damaged by Jack's grenade, and his blast blew off one of the stone legs. The statue rocked on its base.

Two of the resurrected sarrukh soldiers reached Daelan just as he was regaining his feet. He punched one, head-butted the other, and then snatched up his double-axe and finished them off.

Daniel fired a long burst that killed half a dozen of the oncoming reptilians. Morag fired her weapon again and Daniel fell.

Teal'c hit the statue with another staff blast and this time it shattered into chunks of stone. The barrier of slicing swords vanished and the way to the sarrukh priests lay open.

Jack killed one of the elite sarrukh guards with a bullet through the back of its head. He saw Cierre, now seemingly healed of her stomach wound, kill another. Sumia was kneeling over the fallen Daniel, obviously healing him, and the three members of the Neverwinter Nine had the last of Morag's personal guard boxed in between them and they were cutting the reptilian to pieces.

The angel Deione launched herself at Egeria. The naked angel dodged a mace blow with ease and then, much to Jack's amazement, threw her sword away. Jack couldn't understand why she'd done it until he saw that a sarrukh had been about to attack the unconscious Linu. Egeria's sword hit the sarrukh just under the rib-cage and went in up to the hilt. Jack turned in that direction and fired at the oncoming sarrukh soldiers until they were all dead and his magazine was empty.

He watched the fight between Egeria and Deione as he reloaded. It was very much one-sided. Hardly a chick-fight; Egeria took Deione apart with martial arts moves that could have come from a Bruce Lee movie or perhaps, with the way she used the towel, an early Steven Segal film from the days when he could perform convincingly in action movies.

Sharwyn left her savior to it and made for Morag. The Queen of the Old Ones paid no attention to the attack, no doubt feeling secure in her invulnerability, but Sharwyn didn't waste her blows on someone who couldn't be hurt. Instead she smashed her blade down on Morag's staff.

The weapon blew up. The blast knocked both Morag and Sharwyn to the ground. Morag was first to rise. She snarled at Sharwyn but before she could take any offensive action Teal'c zatted her.

It didn't work. It did, however, distract Morag and she turned away from Sharwyn and headed for Teal'c.

Jack saw Egeria holding the other angel pinned and helpless, in an arm-lock and choke-hold, and an idea struck him. Morag couldn't be killed or hurt, apparently, but perhaps she could be immobilized. "Teal'c, Daelan, Cierre," he shouted, naming the strongest members of the group. "Grab Morag! Get her arms, get her legs, pick her up and hold her. Keep her restrained."

"I will, O'Neill," Teal'c replied. He met Morag's charge with a mastaba move, caught her arm as she struck at him, and twisted it around into a lock.

Before Morag could free herself Cierre arrived. She seized Morag's other arm and held it tight. Daelan joined them a few seconds later, bent to grab one of Morag's legs, and lifted it high. Morag kicked out with her free leg but a sergeant of the Neverwinter guard, a man both tall and broad, caught the leg and pulled it straight. Held up in the air, with no leverage and no way of bracing herself, Morag could only thrash around in futile struggle and spit out curses at the 'inferior slaves' profaning her divine body with their touch.

Jack wiped his brow with the back of his hand. It came away streaked with blood; something had cut him during the fighting and he hadn't even noticed. "Keep her like that," he said, "while we kill the kneeling chorus. Then we can kill her and go home."

"You have done well, Colonel O'Neill," Egeria remarked.

"Thanks, uh, Lady Egeria," Jack replied. Her naked body was partially hidden by her captive but he still thought it would be advisable not to stare at her too directly. "Sorry we interrupted your bath."

Linu, swaying slightly on her feet, approached the angels. "You saved my life," she said to Egeria, "and the servitor of my own goddess nearly killed me."

"She's not a servitor of your goddess, Linu La'Neral," Egeria said. "She is a Shard of Selûne."

Jack tuned out at that point. The affairs of the gods and goddesses of this planet were nothing to do with him, although Daniel was probably listening entranced, and he had a mission to complete. "Thanks," he said again to the angel, and moved off. He collected Sam, Tomi, Callum and Sir Nevalle, Eltoora, and a couple of guardsmen, and headed for the circle of kneeling sarrukh.

Shooting unarmed sentient beings when they were just kneeling and chanting, even if they were about as human as the Creature from the Black Lagoon, didn't sit well with Jack at all. It had to be done, unless they were going to wait around here until Morag died of starvation, and so Jack reminded himself that they were taking hostile action in a way. Pretty much the same as the Jaffa operating the shields on a System Lord's ha'tak. He aimed his P-90 and fired.

The bullets bounced off. So did Cierre's axe; her flaming sword, however, sliced into the sarrukh's flesh.

It took a few minutes of experimentation to work out that each of the eight priests was immune to everything except one form of damage. The first one was vulnerable to fire; the next couldn't be harmed by any physical attack but was killed by Eltoora's spells; the one after that died when Sir Nevalle aimed a decapitating stroke at its neck; the next fell under blows from a war-hammer; the fifth resisted everything they tried until Neeshka, who had been healed by Sumia, joined them, stabbed it with her 'Breath of the Maiden' sword, and killed it instantly; then came one that was vulnerable to the icy cold of Cierre's hand-axe 'Frostreaver'; the next died when Jack shot it in the head; and the last one perished when Eltoora fried it with a lightning bolt.

The angels had gone when they returned to where Morag was held captive. She was still struggling but Sir Damon was holding her mouth shut and muffling her curses. Sumia was standing between Teal'c and the tall guardsman. She was resting one hand on Morag's skin.

"I take it we can kill her now?" Sharwyn asked.

"All her protectors are dead," Jack said. "There's nothing to stop us now."

"Good," Sumia said. Her tone changed, becoming harsh and commanding. "Necrotizing fasciitis!"

Morag screamed, so loudly that Sir Damon's attempts to silence her were useless, and her struggles redoubled.

"What the Hell?" Jack exclaimed.

"I've just killed her," Sumia said, taking her hand away and stepping back. "A suitable death for the one responsible for the Wailing Death. I suggest that your friends put her down. She's not going to be pleasant to touch in a few minutes."

Jack felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Sumia was _seriously_ creepy. "I'm not waiting around for her to die, and I'm not leaving with her not positively dead," he said. He let his P-90 hang loose on its sling and drew his sidearm. "Sir Damon, let go of her mouth and stand clear."

Jack put the Beretta against Morag's head, wincing as her screams assaulted his eardrums, and pulled the trigger three times. "Now we can go."

"You have spoiled my revenge, Colonel O'Neill," Sumia complained, as the others let Morag's body fall to the ground, "but I forgive you."

Before Jack could reply the floor shuddered. Pieces of rock fell from the ceiling. "What the Hell?" Jack exclaimed again.

"I suspect that this pocket plane was tied to Morag's life force," Eltoora said. "Now that she is dead it is collapsing." Another quake came even as she spoke.

"Uh, Jack, I think we'd better get out of here," Daniel said, "and fast."

"Damn right," Jack agreed. "Okay, everybody, pick up our dead and let's move! The Gate out of here should be that way," he said, pointing in the direction indicated by Haedraline's map. "Evacuate! Move it! Let's go home."

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Disclaimer: song lyrics quoted by Sharwyn in this chapter come from 'Maxwell's Silver Hammer' (The Beatles, written by Lennon/McCartney); 'Experiment IV (Kate Bush); 'Poison' (Alice Cooper); 'I Won't Back Down' (Tom Petty); and 'Heroes' (David Bowie). Jack and Daniel quote from John Carpenter's movie 'Big Trouble in Little China'. Lyrics and quotes are used without the permission of the copyright holders and with no intent to profit from their use.


	9. Parting is such sweet sorrow

**Chapter 9**

**Parting is such sweet sorrow**

"He calls you 'Carter' and you call him 'Sir'. What was I supposed to think?"

The Gate had taken them back to the Source Stone and now they were making their way through the underground tunnels back to the castle dungeons. Now that they were clear of the 'pocket dimension', and out of danger, there was time for conversation. Some of it, unfortunately, was along lines Jack would have preferred to be left alone.

He cringed inwardly as he overheard Sharwyn. He wasn't sure that he wanted to hear Sam's reply. Sometimes the best thing to do with the elephant in the room was to pretend it wasn't there. He quickened his pace, trying to move out of hearing range, and caught up with Daniel.

Of course the first thing he heard Daniel say was "Fascinating." He was in the middle of a discussion with High Priestess Sumia. Jack groaned. It looked as if he had a choice between terminal embarrassment and terminal boredom.

Or maybe not. Cierre wasn't in conversation with anyone and she was far enough away from Sam and Sharwyn for Jack's purposes. He changed his course slightly and joined her.

"So, Cierre," he said. "You've pretty much fulfilled Kenadi's last wishes. Maugrim's dead, Neverwinter should be able to beat the Luskans now, everything's more or less hunky-dory."

"Hunk-y-door-y? That did not translate," Cierre said. "It must mean something for which there are no words in my language. Perhaps I should get Sharwyn. She speaks some Ilythiiri."

"Uh, no, don't do that," Jack said. It hadn't occurred to him that Cierre didn't speak the same language as the Neverwinter citizens but, seeing as how she was obviously a different race or maybe species, it made sense. The translation amulets were even more impressive than he had first thought; it hadn't occurred to him to ask Teal'c if he was hearing Jaffa rather than English. They could be incredibly valuable; maybe enough in themselves to make the whole mission worthwhile. Well, except for the parts where SG-1 had been being tortured. "It means… ship-shape," Jack explained.

"Pointed at the front and flat at the back, with sails sticking up in the middle?"

Jack thought for a moment that Cierre was joking but, if so, she was doing a very good job of feigning bafflement. Oh, yeah, she came from an underground city and she'd been living in the wilderness for the past fifteen years. She probably wasn't exactly of the nautical persuasion. "Uh, satisfactory, the way you'd want things to be, fine, in good order," he clarified.

"Ah. Completely subjugated," Cierre said. "Indeed."

"So, what are you going to do now? That is, once we get out of this castle." By this time they were climbing the stairs that led up to the basements and dungeons.

"My people have a saying, 'from victory to an inn'," Cierre replied. "Eat, bathe, sleep. Perhaps sleep, bathe, eat if the exhaustion of which Sharwyn warned us strikes too soon."

"I was meaning a little further into the future than just tonight," Jack said. "I guess you'll be going back to, uh, Luruar, right?"

Cierre pursed her lips. "I… suppose so," she said. "It no longer has the appeal it once had. I have tasted true… comradeship and, despite what I said to the treacherous surface elf, solitude has lost some of its appeal. I dared to hope…" she paused, and glanced over her shoulder, probably looking for Sharwyn but not seeing her because of the curve of the stairs, "…but no. It will not happen. Perhaps I might find an adventuring company that will not reject me because of my race."

Jack felt a sudden urge to invite her to return with them to the SGC. He held back for a moment and considered the idea. There was a lot to admire about Cierre; most of all the sheer guts that she'd showed, more than once, in pressing on despite taking a sword thrust to the… guts. She had a lot of the same qualities as Teal'c and she'd make a formidable ally against the Goa'uld. Unlike Teal'c, however, she didn't have any personal stake in the conflict. They'd be taking her on as a mercenary, more or less, and Jack wasn't sure General Hammond would go for that. Maybe he'd better talk it over with the others before he said anything to Cierre…

His chain of thought was interrupted as they reached the top of the stairs, entered the dungeon level, and he noticed a commotion up ahead. Guards running around like headless chickens. He brought his P-90 to the ready. Maybe the Luskans had managed to get a strike force into the city centre, had broken into the castle, and were trying to get to the Gate to link up with Morag. An impossible objective, as Morag's pocket plane had collapsed into itself and the Source Stone gate was deader than Elvis, but they weren't going to know that and they might require some violent persuasion before they gave up.

It wasn't necessary. "It's the prisoner, sir," one of the guards reported to Sir Nevalle. "She's dead."

"Lady Aribeth is dead? Did she commit suicide?" Nevalle asked, taking the words out of Jack's mouth.

The guard shook his head. "Not Lady Aribeth, sir. The other one, the lizard woman. She just up and died, all of a sudden like, a few minutes ago. Not a mark on her, didn't seem to be sick, nothing. Smacks of dark magic to me, sir."

"She killed herself," Aribeth called out, from her cell further along the corridor. "She told me that her people were all gone now, their time had passed, and she had no more reason to live. She stopped her own heart, I think. I envy her. I must wait for Nasher's noose to free me from this burdensome life."

"She must have sensed it when the pocket plane self-destructed," Daniel muttered from behind Jack. "Fascinating. It's a shame. There were still things I would have liked to ask her…"

"It's too late now, Daniel," Jack said, turning his head. "She's dead, her people are all dead, and the crystal versions of stasis chambers are buried forever. Forget about it."

"I guess you're right," Daniel said, sighing. "Oh, well, at least I picked up a few more of the translation amulets."

"Useful," Jack said. "They should be valuable enough to get the bean-counters off our backs."

Cierre's eyebrows climbed high and she stared at him. "You are persecuted by foreigners who tally vegetables?"

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"Sir Nevalle, report," Lord Nasher commanded.

"The Old Ones are destroyed, my Lord," Nevalle replied. "Sir Baedil, the mage Durvur, and three of the castle guards fell bravely in the service of Neverwinter. Their sacrifice was not in vain. Neverwinter is safe."

"I am relieved to hear it," said Nasher. "You have done well. The forces of Luskan are in full retreat now. Some quarter of an hour ago they seemed to fall into disarray and fell back even from secure positions."

"That will be when we slew Queen Morag," Nevalle deduced. "It was her influence over the minds of Maugrim's cultists that was driving them on."

"No doubt," Nasher agreed. "In the Docks those Luskans who unexpectedly came to our aid are withdrawing, in good order, and taking the original occupying forces with them as prisoners under guard. Elsewhere the Luskans have become a rabble. It is no longer a question of driving them out but only of retrieving the loot that they have taken before they can carry it away."

"That is good news indeed, my Lord," Nevalle said. "The war, then, is over."

"It seems so," said Nasher. "We have paid a heavy price but it would appear that, at last, Neverwinter is safe."

"Much of the credit must go to Colonel O'Neill and his colleagues," Nevalle said. "Not only are their weapons fearsome but the Colonel is a gifted commander and tactician. I have learned much from observing his methods. Sir Baedil's death, in fact, resulted from his ignoring Colonel O'Neill's instructions."

"You have earned the gratitude of Neverwinter, Colonel O'Neill," Nasher said.

"Thanks, uh, my Lord," Jack said. "Right now we'd appreciate some of that gratitude in the form of somewhere to sleep. Sharwyn boosted us up for the final fight but it's going to wear off soon. She warned us that the come-down is going to hit us hard."

"Of course," Nasher said. "There are all too many empty rooms, alas, as their rightful occupants have fallen in the battle. I shall have the seneschal find you accommodation."

"Thanks," Jack said again. "Oh, one other thing. We spent ten days locked up in a filthy dungeon, and since we got out we've been trekking across the wilderness, fighting, traveling through Gates, and then fighting some more. Being close to us probably isn't all that nice. Any chance we could get a bath?"

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Breakfast was kind of… British. Bacon, kidneys, sausages, smoked fish, eggs, mushrooms, something that resembled haggis, oatcakes, and toast. There was, however, a reasonable approximation to coffee available as well as a drink that was pretty similar to tea.

Jack set to with a will. He wasn't worried about the possibility of contracting the local equivalent of Montezuma's Revenge – the food looked to be thoroughly cooked, and if there was anything like that in these parts he'd have caught it during ten days of padding out prison rations with MREs – and anyway he was just too damn hungry to care. Although he didn't touch the local version of haggis – he wasn't quite that hungry – and, as his poison immunity would be long gone and Sumia didn't seem to be around to top it up, he steered clear of the mushrooms in case they… weren't.

Sam and Daniel followed his example. Teal'c loaded his plate, in his usual manner, with enough food to choke a starving grizzly bear.

Cierre heaped her plate with haggis and mushrooms. "This resembles a delicacy of my homeland," she said, "which I have not tasted in many long years."

"You sure you can't go back there?" Jack asked, still pondering the idea of inviting her to join the SGC.

"To do so would mean my death," Cierre said. "I have accepted this and it no longer grieves me." She tasted the food. "Not quite the same but tasty enough." She began to eat, with the same single-minded determination that she'd shown when fighting, and responded only with grunts or single-word answers to Jack's attempts to continue the conversation.

"Teal'c Lite," Jack remarked to Daniel.

Daniel glanced briefly in Cierre's direction and nodded. "You might have a point," he agreed. He produced a book from somewhere about his person, propped it up against a flagon of fruit juice, and began to read.

Jack grimaced, turned to Sam, and saw that she was engrossed in studying one of the translation amulets. Her left hand was conveying food to her mouth, moving back and forward almost mechanically, but her eyes were fixed on the amulet and her laptop. Jack grimaced again. It was impossible to carry on a conversation with Teal'c while the big guy was eating, this world didn't seem to have invented the morning newspaper or the crossword, and the nearest TV was hundreds of light years away. Boredom loomed.

He turned back to Daniel. Maybe he could annoy his friend into abandoning the book. It would be difficult, unless he resorted to foul tactics like throwing sausages at Daniel or lighting the book on fire, but maybe not impossible. At least the attempt would keep him… occupied…

Jack's brow furrowed. "Danny," he said, "you're not wearing your glasses."

"Wassat, Jack?" Daniel grunted, his gaze still riveted to the book and his mouth emitting a small spray of toast crumbs.

"Your glasses," Jack repeated. "You must have left them in the room. Is that book large print or what?" Daniel's eyesight wasn't terrible without the glasses, he could function normally as long as you didn't ask him to shoot a Jaffa at fifty yards, but he should have been holding the book a lot closer.

Daniel raised a hand to his face, groped for the frame of glasses that weren't there, and then touched his finger to the bridge of his nose. "They're not there," he said.

"That's what I'm trying to tell you," Jack said.

Daniel's eyebrows quirked upward. "I can see just fine," he said. "As well as if I was wearing them." He put his hand to his breast pocket, pulled out the glasses, donned them and then frowned. "And putting them on makes things blurred," he said, removing the glasses at once. "It was like this yesterday, when Sharwyn sang that song, but she said it would wear off. The exhaustion hit me right on schedule…"

Jack screwed up his eyes. Was it his imagination or was his eyesight a little clearer than usual too? It wasn't easy to tell; his eyesight was still pretty good, mostly, except that he had to hold print just a little further away to read it than when he'd been younger. "Don't throw your glasses away just yet, Daniel," he warned. "The song said 'Heroes just for one day', remember. Your eyesight might go back to normal after twenty-four hours."

Daniel shrugged. "If it does, it's no big deal," he said. "It would be nice if it doesn't, yes, but I'm used to wearing glasses."

"I would like eyeglasses like yours, Colonel O'Neill," Cierre put in, breaking off from her voracious consumption of haggis. "They shield your eyes from the glare of the sun, do they not? I greatly desire such protection."

"Hey, you should have said," Jack told her. He reached down to his pack, which was propped up against the legs of his chair, fished out his sunglasses and handed them over. "Bugaboo Glacier," he said. "They're supposed to be extra good at keeping out the glare of the sun on snow. Just right for you, yeah?"

Cierre looked at them for a moment and then, slightly awkwardly, put them on. "I thank you," she said. "I am in your debt."

Jack grinned at her. "We owe you a lot more than that, Cierre." He studied her for a moment. "They don't look right on you. Too big for your face." The obvious solution presented itself. "Carter…"

Sam raised her head but kept her eyes trained on the laptop screen. "Sir," she said, "do you realize that these amulets translate Spanish, Greek, Goa'uld…"

"Now that is interesting," Jack conceded. "Ancient too, you think?"

"Probably, sir," Sam said. "I haven't found anything yet that they don't. Remember all the work it took to translate the inscriptions from Ernest's Planet? Ancient, Nox, Furling…"

"I remember getting trapped by a faulty DHD," Jack said. "It wasn't my idea of an ideal vacation spot."

"If we find anything like that again we'll just be able to read them, or take photographs, and go straight home," Sam said. "These amulets are going to make things so much easier."

"I'm all for that," Jack said, "but right now I'm after something else. Your sunglasses, Carter."

"My sunglasses?" Sam's eyes opened wide and she actually looked away from the screen.

"Yeah, for Cierre," Jack said. "Come on, Carter, I'll buy you a new pair when we get home."

Sam pouted, and heaved a sigh, but gave in and produced her Ray-Bans.

Cierre tilted her head to one side and looked at them. "They are not dark," she said, sounding dubious.

"They're light-adaptive," Sam explained. "They go dark when they're exposed to sunlight."

Cierre smiled broadly, swapped over the sunglasses, and returned Jack's pair. "Thank you," she said. "These are… wonderful. My people would pay large sums for such glasses. Perhaps not those in my home city of Menzoberranzan, who rarely go out upon the surface, but in Rilauven, where they worship Vhaeraun, they would be greatly prized. The worshippers of Eilistraee would desire them more than any."

"That's good to know," Jack said. "I've been wondering what we can offer this world as trade goods."

"Oh?" Cierre's eyebrows climbed above the sunglasses' rims. "I would have thought it was obvious. Weapons."

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"Not weapons," said Lord Nasher. He looked down at Jack and his comrades from a throne, elevated on a stepped platform, at the head of the audience chamber. "They would be… destabilizing. I could never permit such deadly devices to spread across Faerûn."

"That's a relief," Jack said. "We have a strict policy of not selling weapons to any culture that doesn't already have something similar."

"You sell weapons only to those who do not need them?"

"Well, yeah, pretty much," Jack said. "If they have ones just as effective as ours, but heavier and clumsier, it's not going to be a big deal if we upgrade them a little. Handing out our kind of guns to people who don't have anything better than bows and arrows is a whole different ball game. We don't want to go destabilizing nations, like you said, or arming a conqueror, or anything like that."

Nasher nodded. "I approve. Perhaps we can indeed do business. The question is, what can you offer, and what do you want from us in return?"

"Usually we offer medicines as the first thing," Jack said, "but that seems to be something you don't need. Maybe our doctors could have helped out with the plague, if we'd been here in time, but that didn't happen. With everything else you seem to be pretty well covered. Actually what we most want from you is your healing potions."

"Oh?" Nasher's eyebrows rose. "Can the priests of your land not make their own?"

"Ah, that would be a no," Jack admitted.

"In their homeland all worship Ao," Sharwyn put in. It was the first time she'd spoken during this audience with Nasher and Jack hadn't exchanged any words with her since they'd split up the previous night. She'd returned to her own home in the city, rather than staying in the castle, and she was now wearing a formal gown of purple cloth instead of her usual black breeches and leather jerkin. Her ever-present guitar was still slung at her back. "So I gathered from Giles, anyway."

"Ao?" Jack turned to Daniel. "What's she talking about?"

"I suppose he could be regarded as an analogue of the Judeo-Christian God," Daniel explained. "He's the Overgod, in charge of all the other gods, but he doesn't meddle with the affairs of mortals and almost no-one here worships him directly."

"Giles, you say, Lady Sharwyn? The man from another world you have mentioned?" Lord Nasher focused an intense gaze upon Jack. "You are not, then, merely from some remote part of Faerûn or another continent. I thought it odd that your devices differed so significantly from our own; even the Lantanese have nothing like them."

_Lady_ Sharwyn? Nasher hadn't addressed her that way when they'd first come to the castle. She certainly looked the part, now, but he wouldn't have thought that simply putting on a dress would change how the ruler spoke to her. Had she been, what was the word, ennobled for her deeds? Not that it mattered right now, except that it implied that Nasher was feeling enough gratitude to be dishing out tangible rewards, and that might help with setting up a trade deal.

"Yeah, we're from another planet," Jack revealed. "I didn't want to get tied down in explanations yesterday when we had more urgent things to think about. We came to your world through the Stargate – the portal Sharwyn calls the Voice of the Lost – and we can only go back the same way."

"Hmm." Nasher frowned. "That is in a… disputed region. Any permanent trading post there would undoubtedly be attacked by the Luskans, and by the orc tribes who also claim sovereignty over the area, and the benefits would have to be very great to make such an enterprise worthwhile."

"So we make a local Gate trip the rest of the way," Jack said. "No need to station anyone on-site."

Nasher shook his head. "Impossible. The portals within Neverwinter are warded so that only a few of our most trusted citizens can use them. Lady Aribeth, alas, was one such, and her defection meant that additional wards had to be added. They are formulated so that no-one but a loyal citizen of Neverwinter can open a portal to the city."

"Bummer," Jack said, remembering now that Sharwyn had been the one to operate the Gate for the trip to the city. "I guess I should have expected that. We have… wards on ours, too, but not quite the same way. Anyone coming through has to send a message first, identifying themselves, and if they don't pass muster they go smack into a solid wall and end up dead. O…kay. We can work round this. We can give one of your… loyal citizens, maybe Sharwyn, a radio – that's a long-distance communications device – and call up when we're coming."

Nasher stroked his fingers over his chin. "That might be permissible," he said.

"Uh, sir, not to rain on your parade," Sam said to Jack, "but I don't think your idea is workable. Just how far is the Stargate from the city? 'Disputed region' doesn't sound like it's just a few miles down the road."

"Forty or fifty miles, as the crow flies," Sharwyn answered, "and much of that through Neverwinter Wood. It is quicker to go around even though it is twice as far."

"Oh." Jack pulled a face. "Our little radios won't reach that far, even with a booster at the Gate. We'll have to come back with bigger versions."

"You may do so, certainly," said Nasher, "but you will have to make your own way here on the first occasion."

Jack raised his eyes to the heavens – well, to the ceiling of the audience hall, anyway – and sighed. Lord Nasher wasn't exactly going out of his way to make things easy. "Fine, we can do that," he said. "Now that we know what to expect on this world anyone who messes with us will seriously regret it. We could use a map, though, if they're not… forbidden."

"Only maps of the city itself are forbidden," Nasher said. "Aarin Gend will provide you with suitable maps."

Gend, who had been directing a hostile glower at Cierre during the entire audience, nodded. "Of course, my Lord," he said.

"Okay, then," Jack said. "We'll come back later with a more powerful radio and a selection of trade goods. We should be able to come up with some things you'd find useful or saleable."

"Elasticized thread and stretch fabrics," Sharwyn suggested. "Often did Anya bemoan that, without them, the brassieres that she taught our seamstresses to make were not what they could have been. There is also a process for treating rubber – vulcanization, Giles called it – that they knew only partially. They have taught what they could to the alchemists of Amn but the results are imperfect. I would buy that formula myself."

"Sure," Jack said. "I don't think any of us know it off the top of our heads…"

"I do, sir," Sam interrupted him, "or at least I have it in a book on my hard drive. The accelerants might be beyond local chemistry but the Hancock process should be workable. It just…"

"Give it to Sharwyn before we leave, then, Carter," Jack said, cutting her off before she could start going into tedious details that would make his eyes glaze over. "As a freebie to thank her for everything she's done for us." He turned to Sharwyn. "Share the profits with the others, okay?"

"Of course, Colonel… Jack," Sharwyn said, "although I would happily pay you for it. You have done so much for us and, anyway, Cierre has already paid us for our services."

"Huh?" Jack opened his eyes wide and looked from Sharwyn to Cierre.

"Ten thousand nobles," Sharwyn said. "It was not necessary, as Tomi and I would have gone to the rescue of Daelan anyway, but she insisted."

"I was obeying Kenadi Nefret's last wishes," Cierre explained. "I heard her, before our duel, telling you that, if she fell, you were to take her pack and use the gold therein to pay Sharwyn to help you get home. There remains a further eight thousand nobles. I deem that it is rightfully yours. Take it, and use it to purchase the items that you seek."

"It is rightfully _mine_," Aarin Gend put in, his voice harsh. "I was Kenadi's intended."

"Surely I pay you well enough that you do not need to take gold from those who saved us from the threat of the Old Ones, Gend," Lord Nasher said. "It would be poor thanks for their endeavors."

"It is not the money, my Lord," Gend said. "It is not right that I should have nothing to remember her by."

"I have her sword," Cierre said. "I had thought to give it to Daniel but perhaps it should be yours."

"That would be… acceptable," Aarin Gend said. His face was still set in a glower.

"And now we come to the matter of what is to be done about you, Cierre of Luruar," Lord Nasher said.

"I trust you are going to shower her with gold and jewels," Sharwyn said, "for she has done as much as anyone to defend Neverwinter against Maugrim and the Old Ones."

"The one who did most was the woman she killed," Aarin Gend countered.

"Kenadi was the one who saved Neverwinter from the plague," Sharwyn said, "but without Colonel O'Neill we could not have defeated the Old Ones. Teal'c slew Maugrim. Daniel Jackson and Samantha Carter used their knowledge to gain us access to Morag's realm and Sumia saved all our lives there. Cierre slew Klauth, winning us one of the Words of Power, and ended the war with the Elk Tribe Uthgardt. Many played their part. Cierre's contribution cannot lightly be set aside."

"Hey, you said you weren't going to take any action against Cierre," Jack said.

"I said that I would take no action against her over the death of Kenadi Nefret," Nasher said. Something about his manner reminded Jack of one of those scenes in TV crime shows where the detective springs a verbal trap on the suspect. "I said nothing about the death of Commander Damas."

This was something Jack knew nothing about. There wasn't anything he could say in reply except "Huh?"

"Had I not slain him you would still be at war with the Uthgardt," Cierre said.

"Yeah, and I was going to kill the bastard anyway," Tomi piped up. "She just saved me the trouble."

"The fact remains that Cierre killed him," Nasher said. "The commander of a Neverwinter military establishment, on active service."

"A mass murderer," Cierre said. "He gave plague-infected blankets to the Uthgardt that killed scores of them and started a war in which many of your soldiers, and civilians, died."

"So you say," Nasher said. "Can anyone verify your story?"

"I can," Tomi said. "So can Zokan Thunderer of the Elk Tribe."

"Can any Neverwinter citizen back up your tale?" Nasher pressed. "Lady Sharwyn?"

"I was not there, as you know," Sharwyn said. Her mouth twisted. "I was at my mother's funeral."

"You cannot, then, corroborate their story."

"Hey, wait a minute," Jack said. "That guy deliberately passed on the plague to those tribesmen? So that was what the big barbarian guy, Jaevgrim, was talking about. It's what made the tribe go over to Maugrim's side. If Cierre killed this Commander Damn-ass she was doing you a big favor."

He heard a faint sound of music. Sharwyn had unslung her guitar and was stroking the strings, gently, picking out a tune that seemed vaguely familiar.

"It was not a decision for her to make," said Nasher. "She should have brought evidence to the proper authorities."

Sharwyn began to sing softly. "_And the men who hold high places_

_Must be the ones who start_

_To mold a new reality_

_Closer to the heart_

_Closer to the heart…_"

"And while I was doing that more of the Uthgardt would have been dying," Cierre said, as Sharwyn sang. "I promised Chief Zokan, and gave my word as a fellow worshipper of Auril, that I would act swiftly. Damas withheld the cure and there was no time to go to Neverwinter. I had to force it from him at the point of the sword. He fought back… and lost."

Nasher stroked his chin. "There is logic to your words," he conceded.

"_Spymaster and Nevalle_

_Each must know his part_

_To sow a new mentality_

_Closer to the heart…_"

"I have no love for Cierre," Aarin Gend said, sounding as if the words were being dragged from him, "but I must admit that, in the same circumstances, I would have acted the same way. The reports that came to me from Fort Ilkard were severely critical of Commander Damas. I would have recommended that he be removed from his post had we not been under such pressure on other fronts at the time. Her story… fits with what I know of his character."

"My Lord," said Sir Nevalle, "I fought at Cierre's side in Morag's realm and found her to be a warrior most steadfast and valiant. If you press charges against her in this case I shall offer to take her into my service as a squire. She will then, under the law, be entitled to Trial By Combat."

"Ha!" Callum snorted. "Good luck in finding someone to take her on. I certainly wouldn't, my Lord, not unless the survival of Neverwinter depended on it. And I'd make my will first."

Nasher heaved a sigh. "Very well," he said, "I shall not take any action against Cierre of Luruar in this matter either."

"Glad to hear it," Jack said, rubbing his hands together. He saw Sharwyn slinging her guitar over her shoulder once more. "If we could maybe get back to the trade deal now…"

"However," Nasher went on, "that does not mean that the question is settled. Kenadi had many friends in Neverwinter. Commander Damas… not so many, but he had relatives. Some hold positions of authority. All may seek revenge."

"I do not fear them," Cierre said.

"Cierre," Sharwyn said, "it's not that simple. I don't care what you do to friends or relatives of the swine who unleashed the plague upon the Uthgardt but, if you are forced to defend yourself against Kenadi's friends, you could end up having to kill some good people. And Vengaul Bloodsailor owed Kenadi a blood debt. He could come after you with thirty men. All tough customers."

"I will not stand for blood feuds on the streets of Neverwinter," Nasher declared. "You must leave this city, Cierre of Luruar, and soon."

"Egeria warned me not to put my trust in the gratitude of princes," Cierre said.

"What was that you said?" Nasher asked.

"Nothing important," Cierre replied. Jack guessed that her remark had been in her own language and had been incomprehensible to those not wearing translation amulets. "It was never my intention to stay here, Lord Nasher," Cierre went on. "I shall depart soon."

"When the fleet from Waterdeep arrives," Sharwyn said, "we shall sail back with it. You could come with us."

"You are not staying, Lady Sharwyn?" Lord Nasher leaned forward on his throne. "I had intended to offer you one of the vacant positions in the Neverwinter Nine."

Sharwyn bit on her lower lip. "I thank you for the honor, my Lord, and for restoring my title, but the answer is no. With my mother dead, and Kenadi, this city holds too many painful memories. I cannot stay." She turned back to Cierre. "Well? Will you come?"

Cierre drew in a long breath before replying. "I would like to say 'yes'," she said. "It means much to me that you called me 'friend', and adventuring in your company was… pleasurable. Yet… Waterdeep. A city of a million humans, all of whom no doubt hate Drow, far from the wilderness. I do not think I could stand it. I thank you, but… no. I shall return to Luruar."

Jack looked at Aarin Gend and saw something in the spymaster's eyes that he didn't like. A flash of… triumph, maybe? Jack wasn't fully up to speed with this place's geography but he gathered that Luruar was a neighbor of Neverwinter. Further away than Luskan, yeah, but close enough that they were sending an army to Neverwinter's aid. Close enough that the guy in charge of Lord Nasher's spy network would have contacts there… probably the local equivalent of Black Ops people…

"Hey," Jack said, suddenly reaching a decision. "I have a better idea. Why not come with us instead?"

"With you? To your world?" Cierre's eyes seemed to fill the lenses of the sunglasses.

"Sure," Jack said. "Okay, what we can offer you is mainly a whole lot of fighting, and some hiding, and maybe a little blowing things up. But you like that sort of thing, right? You'll have a ball. And nobody on our world has even heard of drow."

"Ah, that's not strictly true," Daniel said, oblivious to the death glare Jack turned upon him. "There are drow in the folk tales of the Shetland Islands, related to the dark elves of Scandinavian myth, and they appear in various fictional works based on those legends. I haven't actually read them but, from what I understand, they're pretty popular and there are a lot of fans of the drow on the Internet. They even feature in 'Dungeons and Dragons'."

"Daniel," Jack muttered, through clenched teeth. "Not helping."

"I understood little of that," Cierre said, "save that there are people of my race in stories of your world – but only in stories. That might be a good thing."

"We'd love you to join us," Sam chimed in. Jack was relieved to hear her say so, as he hadn't had a chance to discuss the idea with his team-mates, and had been a little worried in case they disagreed. "I can't guarantee you'll like Earth but I hope you will. And, if you don't, you can always come back."

"Indeed it would be most agreeable to fight alongside a warrior such as you on further occasions," Teal'c added. "I am sure that the people of the Tau'ri will extend the hand of friendship to you, as they have to me."

Cierre gave a little, almost shy, smile. "Do you have… snow?" she asked.

"Sure we do," Jack said. "Our base is way up in the mountains. There isn't any snow in the summer but in the winter we get a _lot_ of snow."

Cierre's smile grew broader. "Then I accept."

0 0 1 0 0 1 0 0 1 0 0

The bridge was a work of art; literally so. Built to resemble a dragon, with side rails forming the furled wings, the supporting pillars carved into the likeness of legs, and the walkway paved with tiles in the shape of overlapping scales. Looking at it from the castle side Jack could see that the underside of the far end, where the span joined the bank, was sculpted into coils representing the dragon's tail. Bridge engineering, except for knowing where to place charges to blow them up, wasn't really Jack's thing but he had to admit that it was impressive.

When they'd crossed it the previous day it had been evening, a veil of smoke had been hanging over the area, and Jack had been in no mood for sightseeing. Today the air was clear and he had time to appreciate the splendor.

"Nice view," he remarked, as they walked down the steep path from the castle to the bridge.

"A most ingenious representation, O'Neill," Teal'c agreed.

"It's beautiful," Sam said.

Daniel opened his mouth, probably to make a comparison between the bridge and a monument built by the Sumerians or Hittites or some other mind-numbingly boring dead civilization, but Jack decided they'd spent enough time commenting on the scenery.

"Hey, Sharwyn," he said, "or should that be Lady Sharwyn?"

"I have no interest in such things," Sharwyn replied, her tone cool. "I accepted Lord Nasher's offer to restore the title only because it would have pleased my mother. From his point of view it's a way of rewarding me without it costing the treasury anything. What do you want, Colonel?"

"Nasher," he said. "He didn't exactly go out of his way to be helpful with setting up the trade deal. In fact he spent most of his time putting obstacles in our way. What's his problem?"

"This is the City of Skilled Hands, Ja– Colonel," Sharwyn said. "Some in Athkatla and in Waterdeep have said, in jest, that the name comes from it being my home town, but in truth it is the skills of its craftsmen that have earned it that title. You see the Sleeping Dragon Bridge in front of us," she waved her hand, "the Dolphin Bridge, the Winged Wyvern Bridge… masterpieces, are they not?"

"Well, yeah," Jack said, "but what's that got to do with the price of… sunglasses?"

"The clocks of Neverwinter are famed throughout Faerûn," Sharwyn said. "They sell for a hundred and fifty nobles apiece. They keep time accurately to within five minutes a year. To carry one you must use both hands and walk slowly. Your watches fit on your wrists. They gain eighteen minutes and fifteen seconds a year."

"They what?" Sam, who had been taking photos of the bridge, broke off and fixed Sharwyn with an intense gaze. "How? And how do you know?"

"Your planet's day is three seconds longer than ours," Sharwyn said. "Or is it shorter? I forget. Willow worked it out. Anyway, I bet you could adjust them for our planet."

"Of course," Sam said, smiling. "They'd have to be modified specially, which would add to the cost, but if the order was large enough the extra cost would be negligible. Are your coins as high in gold content as they look?"

"Seven-eighths gold," Sharwyn said. "Pure gold would be too soft to stand up to use as coins."

"Eighty-seven point five per cent," Sam said. "Twenty-one karat. They weigh about a tenth of an ounce, I'd say, so that would be, uh, around forty, forty-five dollars each, if I remember the price of gold right. We couldn't sell watches at a noble each, not with the cost of tweaking the timing and of powering up the Stargate, but at five nobles each we'd make a healthy profit. _Everybody_ would profit."

Jack agreed with her. "That's great," he said. He gave Sam a beaming smile, turned his gaze to Sharwyn, and was surprised to see lowered brows and a downturned mouth. For that matter Daniel didn't look as cheerful as he should have done. "What?"

"Not everyone," Sharwyn said. "The clockmakers of Neverwinter would lose their livelihoods at a stroke."

"We'd wreck their economy, Jack," Daniel backed her. "No wonder Lord Nasher wasn't enthusiastic."

"You desire healing potions, and presumably also magic items such as the enhancing bracers and belts," Sharwyn said, "and so the temples and the Cloaktower mages would profit. The ordinary people of the city… not so much. If you could supply raw materials it would be much more acceptable. We could import rubber from you instead of from Chult, chocolate from Earth instead of from Maztica, and silk from you instead of Kara-Tur, and it would have no adverse impact upon the businesses of the townspeople. Most welcome at the moment, I think, would be building materials. There will be much reconstruction to be done in the aftermath of the war."

"It's just not economically viable," Sam said. "It costs money every time we operate the Stargate. The only things worth trading are high value, low volume, manufactured goods."

"Then Nasher will not make things easy," Sharwyn said, "and may well deliberately place obstacles in your way. It would be different in Waterdeep, or Athkatla, but they're a long way away."

"Damn, why isn't anything ever easy?" Jack complained. "Oh, well, there are plenty of smart guys back at the SGC. They'll figure something out. For now we'll just buy all the healing potions we can get our hands on. Are you sure we can't make them for ourselves?"

"Without the divine spells they're pretty much just refreshing fruit drinks," Sharwyn confirmed. "Of course you could invite a priest to go with you."

Jack had a brief mental image of Sumia at the SGC. He imagined Senator Kinsey poking his nose into things again, pissing off Sumia, and her reacting by giving him some horrible and fatal disease. For a moment he was almost tempted. "I don't think that's really an option," he said, setting the temptation behind him. "Maybe we might think about it later. We'll stick to healing potions for now."

"Stocks will be low, following the battle," Sharwyn said, "but our troops will no doubt have taken potions from the bodies of dead Luskans. If we ask at the Trade of Blades I think we will be able to find enough to fill your requirements."

"I hope so," Jack said. The time on this planet had been… interesting, and some of it, at least the parts not involving torture and deadly peril, had been pleasant, but by now Jack really wanted to get back to Earth. And not just so that he could catch up on 'The Simpsons'. "Oh, yeah, there was something I meant to ask," he added, as a thought occurred to him. "You said something about Sumia saving all our lives down in Maugrim's hang-out. I don't recall that. Did I miss something?"

"The poison gas cloud," Sharwyn said, arching an eyebrow. "How could you – oh, yes, she had made you immune."

"That was when I received my wound," Cierre put in. "I was distracted by the burning in my throat and I was too slow to parry the sarrukh's thrust. I believe that it was also a contributory factor in the death of the wizard Durvur."

"I nearly got killed too, Jack," Daniel said. "I lost my grip on my P-90 when I felt myself choking. Luckily it only lasted a couple of seconds."

"And I never even noticed," Jack said. "That's… bad. I should have been more aware. Sorry, guys."

"There was nothing that you could have done, O'Neill," Teal'c said, "and our exposure to the noxious substance was, thankfully, brief."

"Sumia was immune, of course, and she dispelled it," Sharwyn explained. "She then summoned a vampire to keep Morag occupied."

"A vampire? That guy in black who turned up out of nowhere and turned into mist when Morag ripped out his heart?" By now very little about this world could surprise Jack. A vampire was just one more piece of strangeness.

"Well, yes," Sharwyn said. "What else would he be?"

"Vampires. Right. Of course." Jack pulled a face and stared out over the river. Tendrils of white vapor rose from the water and swirled around the carved supports of the bridge. "That looks like… steam," Jack commented. "Is the water hot?"

"It's warm," Sharwyn confirmed. "It rises, almost boiling, from hot springs at Mount Hotenow. The harbor never freezes, even in the depths of winter, and the river is warm enough for swimming all year round."

"I don't think I'll try it out," Jack said. He took a look over his shoulder at the rest of the group. Sam was still taking photos, Daniel was lagging behind and staring around as if he was trying to memorize everything, and Teal'c, Cierre, and Daelan were deep in a conversation of their own. He didn't see Tomi at first and then spotted the little guy, just past Daniel, watching over the errant archaeologist like a sheepdog guiding a lost sheep.

"Hey, it's Sharwyn! Give us a song, luv, will you?" A passer-by, obviously recognizing her, paused and called out.

"Yeah, go on, play something for us," another voice chimed in. Half a dozen others added their requests.

"I'll be doing a show at the Theater on the Lake tomorrow night," Sharwyn told them, "with the proceeds going to charities supporting those who lost their homes or livelihoods in the war. Wait until then."

"Can't make it, luv, I'll be working," said the man who had first spoken up. "Go on, just one song. Put your hat down and I bet you'll make a few coins."

Sharwyn turned to Jack. "If you don't mind…"

"I guess we have time," Jack said. He wouldn't mind hearing Sharwyn play just for entertainment, for a change, rather than to attack the enemy or summon up angels. "Carter, what do you think?"

"I have to get this on video," Sam said. She was already opening up her pack and extracting her laptop. "I rescued a webcam from what was left of the Weeble…"

"I'll take that as a yes," Jack said. "Sure, Sharwyn, go right ahead."

Tomi scuttled up and tossed a hat down on the walkway. "All contributions gratefully received," he said.

"Let's do the show right here," Sharwyn said. She swung her guitar into position. "Two songs, no more," she told the bystanders. "I hope you don't mind me doing one about a certain other city…"

"_Dirty old river_

_Must you keep flowing?_

_Flowing into the night_

_People so busy_

_Make me feel dizzy_

_Carriage light shines so bright_

_But I don't_

_Need no friends_

_As long as I gaze at_

_Waterdeep sunset_

_I am in paradise…_"

0 0 1 0 0 1 0 0 1 0 0

The snow around the Stargate was still stained with blood. Ravens flew up from the corpses as the party emerged from the portal. A wolf snarled at Jack and then fled, a human arm in its jaws, into the woods.

Sharwyn ignored the grisly scene. "And so this is where we say farewell," she said. "I will miss you… Jack."

"Yeah, we made a good team," Jack said. "I'll miss you too." Daelan and Tomi had remained behind in Neverwinter and they'd already said their goodbyes. Sharwyn had opened the portal from the Halls of Justice to the Stargate and accompanied them on this final trip. Jack paused and took a deep breath. "I was sorry to hear about your mother," he went on. "The plague?"

Sharwyn shook her head. "Only indirectly. Cancer. The doctor treating her died of the Wailing Death. By the time we could find another doctor, to continue the alchemotherapy, it was too late. The cancer had spread too far."

Jack averted his eyes from her face. He found himself looking into the empty eye sockets of one of the corpses and hastily shifted his gaze back to Sharwyn. "So your priests can't cure cancer?"

"Sometimes they can," Sharwyn said, "but sometimes their healing spells make things much worse. I lost someone else, a… good friend, to cancer before her." Tears glistened in her eyes. "Can it be cured on your world?"

"Sometimes," Jack said. "Surgery, radiation treatment, chemotherapy. It's really not in my area of expertise. About all I know is that it works for some patients. With others all it means is that they don't have any hair when they die." This wasn't the sort of conversation Jack had intended and he had a feeling he wasn't helping any. "I'm sorry," he said again.

"When I married against her wishes she disinherited me," Sharwyn said. "She told me I was dead to her and she would never speak to me again. At least I was able to reconcile with her before…" She broke off and swallowed hard. "I hate partings. Farewell, Jack."

"Goodbye, Sharwyn." Jack said. "You'll remember about the GDO?"

"I will." Sharwyn nodded and then brushed her hand across her eyes. "If I ever need you, if those… parasitic snake enemies of yours ever turn up on this planet and are not immediately destroyed by the gods, I will use the device before I pass through the portal." She slapped her hand down on the DHD five times, hit the central globe, and then slipped her guitar from her shoulder as the portal formed in the Gate's ring. "I shall return to Neverwinter now. I may never see you again."

"Hey, you never know," Jack said. "Goodbye."

"And to you. Farewell, Daniel, Sam, Teal'c, Cierre." As their chorus of farewells sounded Sharwyn began to strum her fingers across her guitar strings. She began to sing as she walked away towards the Gate.

"_Of all the things I've believed in  
I just want to get it over with  
Tears form behind my eyes  
But I do not cry  
Counting the days that pass me by_

_I've been searching deep down in my soul  
Words that I'm hearing are starting to get old  
It feels like I'm starting all over again  
The last three years were just pretend  
And I said_

_Goodbye to you  
Goodbye to everything I thought I knew  
You were…_"

The song cut off when Sharwyn passed through the Gate. Jack waited for a moment, until the portal winked out of existence, and then dialed Earth's address.

"Okay," he said, as the 'kawoosh' formed and then collapsed into the familiar blue event horizon, "let's go home."

0 0 1 0 0 1 0 0 1 0 0

Disclaimer: lyrics quoted in this chapter are from 'Closer To The Heart' (Rush, modified to suit Sharwyn's specific purpose), 'Waterloo Sunset' (The Kinks, written by Ray Davies, slightly amended for the Realms), and 'Goodbye To You (Michelle Branch). They are used without the permission of the copyright holders and with no intent to profit from their use.


	10. To walk apart from House and Queen

**Chapter 10**

**To walk apart from House and Queen…**

Cierre stumbled slightly as she emerged onto the ramp at the SGC. Jack and Teal'c simultaneously moved to assist her.

"You alright, Cierre?" Jack asked. He expected that she would be suffering from the momentary disorientation that usually afflicted people on their first Gate trips.

"It was longer than I expected," Cierre said. Her lips curved into an unexpected smile. "As the priestess of Sune said to the barbarian."

Sam sniggered.

"It was quite a pleasurable experience, and I look forward to doing it again," Cierre added.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me, the priestess said that too."

"She could well have done," Cierre said, her smile growing broader. "I was stating a fact and it did not occur to me that it would also fit the jest."

General Hammond was waiting beyond the foot of the ramp, flanked by the rather less welcome figure of Dr Rodney McKay, and the usual precautionary guards with weapons leveled. The General's eyebrows rose high. "Welcome back, SG-1," he said. "Who is your… guest, Colonel?"

"This is Cierre," Jack said. "A native of Toril, that's what the locals call… uh…"

"P3A-219," Carter filled in.

"Yeah. Anyway, she helped us out. A lot. Risked her life for us. And she's a damn fine fighter. In the same league as Teal'c, sir."

Hammond's eyes narrowed. "Are you bringing her here as… a recruit?"

"Subject to your approval, of course, sir," Jack said. "Cierre, this is General Hammond, our boss."

"I am pleased to meet you, General Hammond," Cierre said, and then turned to Jack and added "He will not understand me. I must put on a translation amulet."

"My God," Rodney McKay said. "She's a Drow." His jaw had been hanging open. He snapped it shut, swallowed, and spoke again. "Welcome. What is your name?"

Cierre froze in the middle of accepting an amulet from Daniel. She jerked her head around and stared at McKay. "I am Cierre. You speak my language?"

"A… small part," McKay replied. "I hope we shall be trusted friends. What House are you?"

"What language is that, Dr McKay?" General Hammond asked.

"Drow, or Ilythiiri," McKay answered. "It's an invented language, like Klingon, very loosely based on Tolkien's Sindarin. It comes from Dungeons and Dragons."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

General Hammond took his seat at the head of the briefing table and gestured for SG-1 to sit down. "I'm ready for your report, Colonel," he said.

"It'll take a while," Jack replied. "You might want to consider getting in some popcorn."

"Let's start with the main points," Hammond said. "You went on a simple little mission, which shouldn't have taken more than a day or two, and come back two weeks later accompanied by… a character from a fantasy role-playing game."

"A member of a race from a fantasy role-playing game," Daniel corrected him. "McKay didn't say she was actually a character."

"That doesn't make it any more explicable," Hammond said.

"The drow do feature in Scottish legend," Daniel said, "and I expect that's where the game designer found his inspiration." His brow furrowed, "Gary… Gygax, if I remember right."

"Yep, that's the guy," Jack confirmed. "He appeared in an episode of _Futurama_."

"Just tell me what happened, from the beginning," Hammond ordered.

"I think we'd better just make it a brief précis for now, sir," Sam said. ""I don't think we should leave Cierre with Dr McKay for too long. He can be very… annoying, to say the least, and Cierre really isn't the safest person to annoy."

"Agreed," Hammond said. "Just give me the overall outline. Colonel, if you'd begin?"

Jack obeyed. Daniel chipped in with a few points, as did Sam, and Teal'c added a couple of brief but pertinent observations about the battles. When they'd finished General Hammond leaned back in his chair, sat for a moment frowning, and then leaned forward.

"It's almost unbelievable," he said.

"And we haven't even mentioned the biker chick angel with a taste for Jimi Hendrix songs," Jack said.

"I trust you're joking, Colonel," General Hammond said.

Jack shook his head. "No, sir, I'm telling it like it is. Her name was Egeria, like the Queen of the Tok'ra, but not the same person."

"She, uh, prophesized that we'd find the missing Tok'ra Queen," Daniel put in, "but said that she wasn't allowed to tell us where the other Egeria was because 'others', outside Toril, would regard it as interference."

"It all sounded very much like what Orlin told me about the rules imposed by the Ascended," Sam added. "She confirmed that she was an Ascended Being but I don't think it's quite the same sort of Ascension that we've encountered before."

"Yeah, Orlin and Oma Desala didn't have wings," Jack said.

"Wings?" Hammond's eyebrows rose.

"Wings, with feathers, and she could fly. She called herself an angel, and she fit the description," Jack said, "apart from her clothes. She went in for black leather and chains. Well, except when we interrupted her in the bath."

"One of our… allies called her for help in a fight," Sam explained, as Hammonds eyebrows seemed to be in danger of tearing themselves free from his head and shooting up twenty-eight floors to the open air. "She materialized dripping wet and wearing a towel."

"She was a warrior of truly remarkable prowess," Teal'c contributed. "I believe that she would most properly be described as an 'archangel' in your terminology."

"Wizards, dragons, angels," General Hammond said, shaking his head. "It all seems more like a… bad movie than a mission." He narrowed his eyes. "The Tok'ra told us that the planet was an uninhabitable ball of ice fifteen years ago."

"And the Tok'ra never make mistakes? It's habitable, it has a large population, and a history that goes back thousands of years. Either the Tok'ra meant some completely different planet," Jack said, "or else the local Ascended Beings just made them think they were seeing it like that."

"Or," Hammond suggested, "the Tok'ra information is accurate and you've been in a virtual reality environment, in a chamber under the ice sheet, this whole time."

Jack rolled his eyes. "What, like on the planet with that crazy Keeper guy?"

"P7J-989," Sam supplied. "It was nothing like that, sir."

"I think Cierre's pretty much hard evidence that it was real," Jack said.

"She could be a native inhabitant who had also been in the virtual reality environment," Hammond suggested, "released by you accidentally."

"What about the devices we brought back? And Carter has photos, even movies," Jack pointed out.

Hammond sighed. "I know, I know, it's not really a valid idea. I'm simply clutching at straws." He raised a hand to his face and ran a finger along his chin. "I think perhaps we should bring in another perspective on this."

Sam just about suppressed a groan. "You mean Dr McKay?"

"He does speak Cierre's language," Jack said. "Maybe he might know something. That's assuming she hasn't cut out his tongue, of course." He saw an expression of alarm on General Hammond's face. "Not that she would," he reassured the General. "It's just… Dr McKay. He can be…"

"Irritating," Sam finished for him. "And arrogant. Smug. Downright infuriating."

"He was acting more like a… fan, with her," Daniel said. "I think he's safe."

"I'll have him brought in here," Hammond said.

"What about Cierre?" Jack asked.

"I think it would be best to keep her out of it for now," Daniel said. "If we're going to be questioning the fundamental basis of her world… she might not take it well."

"We can't leave her to roam the base unsupervised," Hammond said.

"I will act as a guide to Cierre of Luruar," Teal'c volunteered. "I do not think that I will be able to make any significant contribution to your discussion. Perhaps I will take her to the gymnasium. I would like to test the belt of strength to determine exactly how much it increases my abilities. I believe that she would find similar physical activity an acceptable way of passing time until your meeting is concluded."

"Thank you, Teal'c," Hammond said. "That would be a big help."

"You be careful with your extra strength, big guy," Jack cautioned Teal'c. "Don't go breaking any of the gym equipment."

"Your warning is unnecessary, O'Neill," Teal'c said. "I shall not. And I shall endeavor to prevent Cierre of Luruar from doing so as well."

"In her case," Jack said, "I'm more worried about her breaking people."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

"It's absolutely incredible," McKay gushed. His grin was so wide it looked as if it was in danger of splitting his face apart. "A real Drow from Menzoberranzan. It's impossible. It invalidates all the laws of science… but I don't care."

"If you would take a seat, Dr McKay," General Hammond prompted.

"And calm down," Jack said. "Just why is it impossible? She's here. Therefore, not impossible."

McKay still hadn't sat down. "Not impossible? Do you realize that Cierre has actually met Drizzt Do'Urden?"

Jack tried to raise one eyebrow but found that the other one, despite his efforts to keep it down, crept up to join its twin. "Why is that impossible? I've met lots of people."

McKay put his hands on the back of his chair and leaned forward over the table. "He's a literary character. Completely fictional. It's as if Dr Jackson had met Indiana Jones or you'd met… someone from a Dale Brown or Tom Clancy novel. Or you came back through the Stargate accompanied by, say, Wedge Antilles."

"Or somebody claiming to be Wedge," Jack said. "We know there were people from Earth there. One of them probably used the name. We never got to meet them but Sharwyn knew them."

"Ah, Sharwyn," McKay said. He pulled his chair out and, at last, sat down. "The red-haired bard, one of the six available companions of the Hero of Neverwinter, and she turns up again in the sequel."

"The… sequel?" Jack exchanged glances with Daniel and Sam.

"The 'Hordes of the Underdark' expansion pack for 'Neverwinter Nights'," McKay explained. "You know? The computer game?"

"Computer… game?" Jack pulled himself together. Echoing McKay's words made him sound like a parrot. "Look, this wasn't any virtual reality thing. I've been in one and I know. We got sweaty, our clothes got filthy, we had to go to the bathroom…"

"My allergies played up when we were locked up in cells with straw on the floors," Daniel added, "and I was snuffling and sneezing for a while, although they cleared up after Lady Cold Circle healed me. How could that have happened in virtual reality?"

"And what about all the things we brought back with us?" Sam raised her arms and displayed the bracers she still wore on her wrists. "These, for instance?"

"Yeah, and with this on," Jack held up a translation amulet, "I can speak Russian. Confused the Hell out of Colonel Chekhov when I bumped into him near the infirmary."

"We brought back thirty-two of them," Daniel said. "Enough for each SG team to have at least one, even if we can't duplicate them. They're solid, they're not part of any virtual reality, and they work for anyone who puts one on. I would have thought they were pretty convincing evidence even if you can, somehow, overlook Cierre."

"Which you can't," Jack said. He folded his arms. "Case proven."

"Case not proven," McKay said, shaking his head. "I never said anything about virtual reality. I think someone has built their own fantasy world… life-size."

"Well, it's a step up from painting little figures in your bedroom," Jack said. "I wonder what they use for dice. Asteroids?"

"If you could just explain in plain English, Dr McKay," General Hammond said.

"It's a setting for Dungeons and Dragons games," McKay explained. "The cities of Neverwinter and Luskan, the continent of Faerûn, and the world of Toril; collectively known, in the game supplements and novels, as the Forgotten Realms. Probably the most detailed and consistent imaginary world ever created. Of course Ed Greenwood, who came up with it in the first place, is a Canadian."

"Yeah, he would be," Jack said. "What are you getting at? You think this guy Ed Greenwood found out about Toril? Went there, maybe?"

McKay arched his eyebrows and raised his gaze to the heavens, or at least toward where the heavens would be if twenty-eight floors of the Cheyenne Mountain complex weren't in the way, and sighed. "That's the exact opposite of what I'm saying. He was writing stories about the Forgotten Realms when I was a kid. How could he have gone through the Stargate then? And the computer game, with the Wailing Death plague and the return of the Old Ones, came out a couple of years ago. The expansion pack was last year. Life is imitating art, not the other way around."

"You're saying that events on Toril are following the course of the game?" Sam's incredulity was clear in her voice.

"And now she gets it." McKay folded his arms and leaned back in his chair.

"How in the Sam Hill is that possible?" asked General Hammond.

"Ah. Well, that's the part I haven't totally figured out yet," McKay admitted. "I have a tentative hypothesis. As I understand it, you deduced that the gods of the Faerûnian pantheon are Ascended Beings, right?"

"I don't see what else they can be," Daniel said, "although they're not a lot like the ones we've met before."

"I believe they decided to go one step further," McKay speculated, "and play at being gods for real. A while ago, probably in the past fifteen years, they visited Earth and heard about Dungeons and Dragons. They found an Earth-sized planet, thawed it out, terraformed it to match the descriptions of Toril, and stocked it with the appropriate life forms. Then they took on the identities of the gods and started to play."

"You have got to be kidding us," Jack said. "Cierre claims to be a hundred and thirty nine years old. Even if she's shooting a line she still has to be at least twenty-five."

"Indoctrinated with the back-story," McKay said, "and convinced that her fake memories are true."

"Dr McKay…" Sam said.

"Call me Rodney," McKay interrupted.

"Dr McKay," Sam said again, with added emphasis, "that's the most ridiculous flight of wild speculation I've ever heard."

"Oh? Do you have a better idea?"

"I have," Sam said. "Time travel."

"Of course!" Daniel jumped in. "That would explain everything."

"Not to me," said General Hammond.

"We know there are people from Earth on Toril," Sam elaborated. "We don't know how, or who they are, but they're definitely there."

"Probably a Rogue NID group we didn't find when we broke up Maybourne's operation," Jack suggested.

"Possibly, sir. Anyway, I think they'll leave Toril in the near future, try to return to Earth, but get diverted by a solar flare and go back in time. The way we did."

"Back to 1969?" Jack asked.

"Not necessarily 1969, sir, but it would fit," Sam said. "Either then or to sometime in the 70s. They probably realized that anyone they told about what they'd done would think they were crazy. So, instead, they pretended it was a fantasy world, and either wrote stories about it, or told other people who wrote the stories."

McKay pursed his lips. "I have to admit it's feasible," he said. "It doesn't quite fit with what I know about the creation of the Forgotten Realms setting but the accepted account might not be accurate. How do you explain the Tok'ra saying that the planet was one big ice-sheet?"

"Which would be easier?" Sam asked. "Thawing a planet out from a 'Snowball Earth' ice age, stocking it with plant life, animals of every type from insects up to people – and monsters – and then giving all the people fake backgrounds, or faking out an orbiting spacecraft so that it sees what they want it to see?"

"Well, when you put it like that," McKay conceded, "your idea is certainly simpler than mine." He sucked in one cheek, let it out, and then sucked in the other. "That might mean you're more likely to be right. Occam's Razor. It doesn't _feel_ right to me, somehow, but I can't come up with any logical arguments against it."

"You've both completely lost me," Jack said. "I never thought I'd come across anything where time travel was the _simple_ explanation."

Across the table Daniel murmured the dread word "Fascinating."

"All I want to know," said General Hammond, "is if this world poses any threat to us, or if it offers any opportunities."

"It's not a threat," Sam said.

"Unless my hypothesis is correct," McKay said, "in which case doing anything to annoy the Faerûnian gods, or the entities playing their roles, would be a very bad mistake. If they can turn an ice-ball planet into a fertile one then they could do the reverse to Earth."

"Aren't they forbidden from directly interfering with the affairs of mortals?" Daniel put in.

"I'd prefer not to rely on that prohibition," McKay said, "just in case it's more of a guideline."

"I can't see us doing anything to annoy them," Jack said. "We have to be in Auril's good books, and Talona's, and Shar seemed to be pretty okay with us."

"Those are all evil goddesses," McKay pointed out.

"Not from where I'm standing," Jack said. "Egeria was the Herald of Shar and she was… nice. Lethal as they come, sure, but then you could say the same about Carter. Loviatar, now, she's Evil with a capital E."

"According to the books I found," Daniel said, "there were some big changes a couple of years ago. Some of the Evil gods, uh, lightened up."

"I must read those books," McKay said.

"They're written in an obscure script, and a language which resembles a mix of German, Welsh, and Hungarian," Daniel pointed out. "You'd need one of the translation amulets to read them."

"The Thorass alphabet, and the Common Tongue," McKay said, "and of course it's always rendered as English in the game books so I've never learned it. Okay, then, let me have one of the amulets."

"Remember, Dr McKay, you'll be going back to Russia soon," Hammond said. "Now that SG-1 is back, and they can read the symbols on the Gate, there isn't any reason for you to stay."

"But I hate it in Russia," McKay whined.

"That can't be helped," Hammond said. "Your assistance with their naquadah generator program is part of our deal with the Russians. As long as you're on the Air Force payroll you'll follow orders – and those orders are that you go back to Russia." His tone softened. "I can let you stay until the day after tomorrow. No longer."

"I could always…" McKay began, and then he stopped and pulled a face. "Okay. You win. Let me have one of those amulets, and a book, and I'll get reading."

"If you've quite finished," Hammond said, "perhaps we can get back to my question? Does the planet pose any kind of threat?"

"Not unless we do something really dumb," Jack said, "such as sending missionaries. I think that would be an incredibly bad idea."

"Missionaries aren't part of our remit at the SGC," Hammond said.

"As long as Kinsey doesn't get control over us, anyway," Daniel muttered.

Hammond ignored the comment. "If we're agreed it isn't a threat, what about opportunities?"

"Well, there is naquadah on the planet," Sam said, "but the subterranean civilizations that have access to it aren't friendly. Getting hold of it might be a problem."

"Naquadah? Faerzress comes from naquadah?" McKay leaned forward and raised his eyebrows.

"Naquadah comes from naquadah? What are you talking about?" Sam asked.

Jack realized that Sam still had her translation amulet around her neck. He slipped his on. "Say that again, Dr McKay," he said.

McKay, his brows furrowed in apparent confusion, obliged. "Naquadah is naquadah," he said.

"Whatever the word was that you said in some other language comes out as 'naquadah' through the amulet," Jack said. "That pretty much confirms that they're the same thing."

"Amazing!" McKay exclaimed. "So a real element fills the place of the fictional substance invented for the game world."

Jack groaned. "Please, don't start all that again," he pleaded. "Can we get back to the topic of what they have that we want?"

"Certainly, sir," Sam said. "So, there's naquadah there, but it would be difficult to obtain. Maybe something to think about long-term. In the short term they have lots of things we could use, what they call 'magic items', but most of all we need their medicines. They have potions with effects that are almost miraculous."

"They _are_ miraculous," McKay said. "Divine magic."

"I don't believe in magic," Sam said. "There's a rational explanation for everything. The potions accelerate the natural healing processes of the body to an incredible extent – like having an improved Goa'uld healing device in a bottle – but that's all."

"And how do you explain…?" McKay began, and the two scientists were off into a long and convoluted discussion that had Jack's eyes glazing over within the first minute.

Eventually General Hammond brought them to a halt. "All I want to know," he said, "is if we can synthesize them. And if we can duplicate things like those… bags that are bigger on the inside than the outside…"

"Bags of Holding," McKay interjected.

"…and the translation devices."

Sam shook her head. "I don't think so," she said. She rambled on for a while, giving reasons, and – for once – McKay actually agreed with her. As far as Jack was concerned she might just as well have said one word. "No."

Hammond sighed. "We'll have to work out a way of trading for them, then. That's your job, Dr Jackson."

"I should be involved in that," McKay said. "I know more about the world."

Jack couldn't let that pass. "Hey, McKay, which of us has actually been there?"

"None of you recognized where you were," McKay said.

"I hardly think you're the only person on this base who has played Dungeons and Dragons," General Hammond said. "You can have some input, Dr McKay, but you're still going back to Russia on schedule."

Jack waited until McKay gave up protesting and then raised the one matter that was still outstanding. "Sir," he said, ignoring McKay and fixing his gaze on Hammond. "What about Cierre?"

"Yes," said Hammond. "The alien, or perhaps fictional character, who you've brought to the SGC. Just what do you expect us to do with her?"

"Recruit her," Jack said. "She'd make a great member of an SG team. Tough, resourceful, she never gives up, and she's better at close combat than anyone we're going to find on Earth."

"She even impressed Teal'c, sir," Sam chimed in.

McKay rubbed his hands together. "It's an incredible opportunity," he said. "You can't pass up the chance to have the Hero of Neverwinter working for you."

"Oh, she's not the Hero of Neverwinter," Daniel corrected him. "That was Kenadi Nefret. Cierre killed her."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

"So, Cierre," Jack said to Cierre, "what do you think of our world so far?"

She arched an eyebrow. "I have seen only a portion of your lair beneath the ground. It is not much on which to base an opinion. I am impressed by your training facilities, and the arrangement by which heated water sprays for bathing purposes is both cunning and pleasant, and thus far I have been treated with courtesy. The small woman who took our blood with needles had the firmness of a Matron Mother yet also the kindness of a priestess of Eldath or Eilistraee. I liked her."

"Indeed Janet Fraiser is both determined and compassionate," Teal'c agreed, "and is well liked by all of the people in this base."

"You were in error when you said that my race was unknown in this world," Cierre went on, "for Rodney knows the Drow well."

'Rodney?' Jack thought, exchanging a glance with Sam and seeing her eyebrows shoot up, but he managed to hold back from making any comment out loud.

"He knows the stories I mentioned," Daniel said. "I hadn't realized they were actually about your world. It, uh, must be something to do with the people from Earth Sharwyn mentioned."

"No doubt," Cierre said. She didn't sound particularly interested. Suddenly her face lit up. "There are many men in this place," she said, "tall, well-muscled, and handsome. They do not look upon me with contempt or fear. On the contrary some of them seem to desire me. I should be able to get fucked on a regular basis."

Sam's cheeks became tinged with red. Daniel swallowed hard and blushed so intensely that his cheeks would have stopped traffic in fog. Teal'c raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, Carter," Jack suggested, once he was able to speak, "this might be the time to have a word with Cierre about Air Force Instruction 36-2903-2.5."

Sam's brow furrowed. "Air Force policy on tattoos and body piercings?"

"I meant the civilian fraternization rules," Jack said. "The same ones Daniel has to follow."

"That would be 36-2909-3.2, sir," Sam said, with a slight roll of her eyes. "Professional and unprofessional relationships for civilian employees."

"There are rules governing who I may fuck?" Cierre's white eyebrows climbed into view over the rims of the sunglasses she still wore. "I like that not."

"Uh, it's, uh, necessary for discipline," Jack said. "Explain it to her, Carter."

This time Sam's eye-roll would have been envied by a chameleon. She said something under her breath that Jack suspected was "Coward". She heaved a sigh. "Oh, very well, sir," she said, "but not here. This is girl talk and requires privacy and some specialized accompaniments. Chocolate and ice cream."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

"She's not human," Janet Fraiser told the group assembled around the briefing room table. Once more Teal'c was looking after Cierre while the other members of SG-1, together with General Hammond and Rodney McKay, discussed the prospective new recruit.

"Tell me something I don't know, Doc," Jack said.

Janet clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Which one of us performed the analysis of her DNA, Colonel?"

"You," Jack conceded, "but I've seen her ears. They were enough of a clue."

Janet rolled her eyes. "They're the least of the differences. Her eyes are considerably more unlike those of humans. She can see much further into both the infra-red and the ultra-violet than we can and she has a tapetum lucidum."

"A what?"

"A reflective coating behind the retina of her eyes," Janet explained. "It's an adaption to low-light vision, the same thing a cat has, and it's why her eyes have that amber glow. She's a natural-born night fighter."

"I'd noticed," Jack said.

"The down side," Janet went on, "is that her vision is a quite a lot worse in bright daylight. Sunglasses aren't a convenience for her, they're a necessity."

"That explains why she glommed onto Carter's so enthusiastically," Jack said.

"Which reminds me, sir," Sam put in, "you still haven't bought me the replacements you promised."

"Hey, give me a chance," Jack said. "We've only been back a day."

General Hammond sighed. Jack took the hint and fell silent.

Janet returned to the topic of Cierre's physiology. "Her teeth re-grow to replace lost or worn-out ones," she said.

"Neat," Jack said.

"Because of her extended life-span," Daniel deduced.

Janet nodded. "She tells me they can live for over two thousand years," she said. "She looks like a young woman of about twenty-five because, in their terms, she is one."

"I get the thing with the teeth," Jack commented. "If they wore out the way ours do the drow would have to live on soup for centuries. Not a lot of fun."

"Amazing," Rodney McKay said. "There isn't anything about the teeth in the game material but it's so totally logical. If my hypothesis about it being an artificially-constructed environment is correct the creators must have put huge amounts of thought into it."

"Whereas if my time travel idea is right then it's just a little detail that the travelers from Earth forgot about, or never knew about, and so didn't mention when they described Toril to that Ed Greenwood guy," Sam said.

"I wonder," General Hammond digressed, "if we should question that writer, and the other man, the one who invented Dungeons and Dragons."

McKay shook his head. "Gary Gygax is ill," he said. "I heard he had a stroke recently. We should just leave him alone. I guess we could have a word with Ed Greenwood but I don't see where it will get us. If he did get the original idea from Gate travelers who went back in time it must have been thirty-five years ago. How much is he going to be able to tell us that's any use?"

"We might end up giving away more than we learn," Sam added. "I don't think it's worth it, sir. If there was a security breach it dates back to 1969. Any damage has already been done." She gave a slight shrug. "Mainly we'd be just settling the argument between myself and Dr McKay and I don't see the point of putting much effort into that."

"Very well," Hammond said, "I won't make it a high priority. We'll nose around a little, and try and find out something about those names you mentioned, when there isn't much else happening. Dr Fraiser, is there anything else we should know about the young lady's physiology?"

"You can't call her a 'young lady', sir," Janet pointed out, "seeing as how she was born about the time Sherman was marching from Atlanta to the sea."

"I'll try to remember," Hammond said, "but she looks about the right age to be a lieutenant, at most. Calling her 'young lady' is almost automatic. Unless we give her a military rank… Go on, Dr Fraiser."

"Yes, sir. Actually, I've covered most things. She has almost no body hair. Her skin cells are extremely high in melanin, as is fairly obvious from her appearance, but low in 7-dehydrocholesterol. That means she probably needs to include significant quantities of oily fish, eggs, or mushrooms in her diet to avoid suffering from Vitamin D deficiency."

Jack ignored the scientific terminology and latched on to the essentials. "Feed her mushrooms. Not a problem, they're her favorite food."

"Not since she discovered ice cream," Sam put in.

"She's exactly the same height as Major Carter, and only a couple of pounds heavier," Janet went on, "but Cierre's at least fifty per cent stronger even without her gadgets. With them, well, she ties with Colonel Dixon as the strongest person on the base behind Teal'c."

"Her clothes fit me as if they were made for me," Sam said. "She can't have bigger muscles, so how come she's so much stronger?"

"Her muscle fibers are more efficient, and a little more densely packed," Janet explained. "The rest of it is probably down to her swinging three-pound swords around for a century."

Jack nodded. He'd felt the weight of her swords.

"Her blood is a little unusual, not matching any of the known types," Janet went on. "She wouldn't be able to receive transfusions from any normal source. If she joined an SG team we'd have to keep some of her own blood in storage. Oh, and she does have naquadah in her bloodstream, but what she doesn't have is the protein marker left by a Goa'uld symbiote. She probably wouldn't be able to use their hand devices."

"Is she an entirely alien species or is she descended from humans?" Hammond asked.

"She's of hominid ancestry," Janet said, "but separated from the human line of descent a very long time ago. Two hundred thousand years at the very least. Or else more recently but with a _lot_ of genetic engineering."

Daniel suddenly sat up very straight in his chair. "Nobody finds out about this," he said. "Nobody. You'll have to edit your findings, Janet."

It was the voice Daniel used when he was deadly serious about something. If you ignored him when he spoke like that bad things happened; Goa'uld invasions, ancient death traps nearly killing Teal'c, that sort of thing. Why was he using it when they were just talking about Cierre being genetically modified… to live for… two thousand years…? "Daniel's right," Jack said. "If word gets out that she's a hundred and thirty-nine but looks twenty-five then some people are going to want to take her apart to find out how."

Sam grimaced. "Like Adrian Conrad's people tried to do to me," she said.

"Good call, Daniel," Jack said.

General Hammond pursed his lips and steepled his fingers. "I think you have good reason to be wary," he said. "Certain parties…"

Jack put his hand to his mouth. "Cough… Kinsey… cough… Maybourne… cough."

"Nasty cough you have there, Colonel," Hammond remarked. "As I was saying, certain… unnamed… parties would go to extreme lengths if they thought they could get their hands on an… immortality serum. They wouldn't let moral considerations stand in their way."

"If they tried to snatch Cierre it could get messy, sir," Jack said. "Dead bodies, missing limbs, and that would mean paperwork. Better it doesn't happen in the first place."

"Agreed, Colonel," Hammond said. "If – and I repeat if – we take Cierre on to join the SGC I'll make sure her documentation shows her date of birth as 1979 instead of 1865."

"I don't think my observations about Cierre's teeth really need to be included in my reports," Janet said, "and a lady's age is nobody's business but her own. I'll stick to those aspects that would affect her performance in the field."

"Which brings us back to the question of if we should recruit her," Hammond said. "Do you really think she'd be an asset to the SGC, Colonel?"

"Definitely, sir," Jack said, "and I'm sure the rest of the team will back me up." Daniel and Sam did so, with conviction, immediately.

"Very well," Hammond said, "I'll accept that she has something to offer the SGC. The question is, Colonel, do we have anything to offer her?"

Jack blinked. "Sir?"

"She doesn't have any personal stake in our conflict against the Goa'uld," Hammond expanded. "We have nothing to offer her except, as a great man once said, 'Blood, toil, tears and sweat'. I'm not sure why she'd want to put herself through that for us. Unless she's hoping to take Earth weapons back to Toril…"

"She likes us," Jack said.

"That sounds rather slender motivation," Hammond said.

"You haven't seen her in action," Jack said. "She's a natural-born small unit combat specialist who's spent the past fifteen years operating alone. Joining up with us, and Sharwyn and Tomi, was like… coming home for her. She _belongs_ in a small combat team. That's not an option back where she comes from. Plus, I'm pretty sure there's a contract out on her on Toril…"

"The drow are a gregarious people," McKay put in. "They have a saying 'To walk apart from House and Queen is to walk into the grave'. If she's been an outcast and a loner for the past fifteen years it hasn't been from choice. All we have to do is make her feel like part of the team and she'll be happy."

"There isn't a place for her on SG-1," Hammond said, "but I think I could place her on one of the other SG teams – once she's been trained in firearms use, and a few other things, of course."

"That's great, sir," Jack said.

"Of course now we have to solve the problem of her ears," Sam said.

"Her ears, Carter?"

"Well, we can hardly invite her to see Earth and then just keep her confined to base," Sam said, "but those ears would draw attention. I guess she'll have to join Teal'c in the hat-wearers' club."

"Make them look fake," McKay suggested. "She'll just look like the kind of weirdo who dresses up as a fantasy role-play character."

Jack bit back the comment about 'takes one to know one' that automatically rose to his lips. "That's… not a bad idea," he said instead.

"Very well, then, I'll call this meeting over," General Hammond announced. "I'll interview Cierre shortly. Back to work, everyone."

Janet Fraiser cornered Jack as they left the briefing room. "I want a word with you, Colonel O'Neill," she said.

"Is there something wrong? I feel fine," Jack said.

"You're actually in better shape than you were before the mission," Janet said. "The long-standing cartilage damage to your knees seems to have cleared up completely."

"That will be the healing, uh, spells," Jack said. "They're pretty neat."

"I got the impression, from Cierre, that they couldn't fix pre-existing conditions," Janet said.

"Maybe they got... re-damaged," Jack said. He avoided meeting Janet's eyes. He knew perfectly well how they'd been damaged again; Vhonna had systematically shattered his knees with a mace.

"Exactly," Janet said. "You, and the others, were subjected to repeated torture for several days. It hasn't left any physiological damage but I'm somewhat concerned at the psychological implications. I think you should see a counselor."

"I don't think so, Doc," Jack said. "Our past experiences in that line haven't gone well. You'd have to drag Daniel into any sessions kicking and screaming and, really, I'm not much more enthusiastic. I think the best way of dealing with it is just to forget about it."

Janet clicked her tongue. "I expected that attitude from you, Colonel, but I think you're making a…"

She was interrupted by an alarm sounding. A call of "Unauthorized Gate activation" went up.

"Well, nice talking to you, Doc," Jack said, "but it looks like we're back to business as usual." He scurried off to the control room.

"Receiving IDC," Walter reported. "It's the Tok'ra."

"And for once," Jack said, "I'll be glad to see them. I wonder what they want?"

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

Jack knocked on the door of Hammond's office and entered. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

It was three months after their return from Toril and a lot had happened in the intervening period. The return of a long-lost and dangerous System Lord, an attempt by the Goa'uld to destroy Earth with a naquadah-enriched asteroid, and, most importantly, the death – or Ascension – of Daniel Jackson.

"I did," Hammond confirmed. "I know this isn't what you want to hear, but part of the deal to get the Russian Stargate involved agreeing to let one of their officers join SG-1."

Jack pulled a face. "This is the thanks I get for saving the world again?"

"I'm sorry, Jack," Hammond said. It was very rare for him to use Jack's first name and it usually meant something bad. "You're going to have to live with this."

"Sir," Jack said, "can't we just throw them a bone? Give them their own unit. They'd be happy with that, wouldn't they?"

Hammond nodded slowly. "I think that would be sufficient," he said. "It might be what they were after in the first place. So, what about SG-1?"

"I think you know my answer already, General," Jack said. "Cierre."

"She can't fill Daniel's role," Hammond pointed out.

"Nobody can replace Daniel," Jack said, "but that isn't the point. We'll get by with the translation amulets. The important thing is that I know I can trust her with my life. She gets the job done. I want Cierre on SG-1."

"Well, she's passed all necessary training, and she performed admirably when she filled in for Specialist Johnson on SG-12," Hammond said. "Very well, Colonel, I'll grant your wish. You can inform Cierre that she's the new member of SG-1."

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

Jack came back to consciousness. He could feel something over his mouth and nose. For one terrible moment he was back in Vhonna's torture chamber, reliving the time when she'd paralyzed him, gagged him, and then simply held his nostrils shut until he lost consciousness, but then he managed to open his eyes and he realized that he was in the SGC infirmary. The thing over his mouth was an oxygen mask.

He could see Sam, wearing a biohazard suit, leaning over him. "Sir," she said, "I don't know if you can hear me. The Tok'ra have offered you a deal. There's a symbiote that needs a host. They think it could cure you. Now, it may be your only chance. It would only be temporary. It would come out of you as soon as they found another host."

Memories surfaced. Antarctica. The Ancient girl frozen in ice for millions of years. The disease she'd carried that had infected all the members of SG-1.

"Sir, are you getting any of this?" Sam leaned closer. At least she seemed to be okay now.

"Carter," Jack managed to say, "over my dead body." No way was he going to let himself be taken over by a snake, even to save his life, when there was another option. "Never…winter," he managed to croak out. Sumia, or one of the other High Priests or Priestesses, would have him back on his feet in no time.

Sam shook her head. "We thought of that, sir, but it's no use. We still haven't set up the radio link and we'd have to take you across country for a hundred miles. You'd never make it. I'm afraid the Tok'ra are your only chance."

"Damn," Jack tried to say. No sound came out.

"Sir," Sam went on, "the symbiote's host died while they were on a mission. The Tok'ra have strong reason to believe that the symbiote has vital information to reveal and this would give him that chance. Now, they promised that if no other host was found within a reasonable amount of time, the symbiote would sacrifice itself rather than stay in an unwilling host. Sir, please."

Jack could feel himself slipping away. He tried to concentrate on his answer. He still felt a strong repugnance to the idea of being controlled by a snake, even a 'friendly' one, but he wasn't all that keen on dying either. Carter had come out okay from her experience with Jolinar, and this seemed to be pretty important to her, so maybe it might be the least bad option. And if the Tok'ra didn't play straight then Cierre would no doubt start in on dismembering them until they gave him back…

"O…kay," he tried to say. He wasn't sure if he'd managed to utter anything audible and so he nodded his head. The slight movement exhausted him and everything went black…

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

"The host lives, my lord."

Jack opened his eyes. That sounded promising. Except… the Tok'ra never called anyone 'my lord'. And was he in a sarcophagus? Yep. That mean that, wherever he was, it wasn't with the Tok'ra. They shunned sarcophagus use the way Jack would have shunned being a Tok'ra host if he'd had any other option besides death.

"Bring him to my chambers." It was a Goa'uld voice. Uh-oh. This looked bad.

A couple of minutes later two Jaffa dragged Jack into a room, shoved him onto a platform, and thrust him against some kind of weird metal spider-web thing that seemed to suck at him and hold him in place. The Jaffa rotated the contraption until Jack could see someone who, presumably, was the local Goa'uld. A dark-haired guy with a neatly-trimmed beard and mustache, looking like Central Casting's idea of someone to play the part of Saladin in a movie about the Crusades, wearing a black tunic with a double row of silver fastenings. Definitely an Evil Overlord.

"Who are you?" the Goa'uld asked.

"You go first," Jack suggested.

"You claim you do not know me?"

"Well, take no offense there, Skippy, I'm sure you're a real hot, important, Goa'uld, I've just always been kind of out of the loop with the snake thing," Jack replied.

"I am Ba'al," the Goa'uld announced. He sounded as if he expected it to mean something.

Jack would have shrugged if he'd been able to move. "That's it? Just Ball? As in, Bocce?"

As usual his humor didn't go down well with the Goa'uld. "Do you not know the pain you will suffer from this impudence?" He held out a knife and it seemed to point itself at Jack.

"I don't know the meaning of the word. Seriously. Impudence. What does that mean?"

Ba'al let go of the knife. Instead of falling to the floor it shot straight at Jack and impaled his shoulder. From that point on things only got worse. Ba'al interrogated Jack about things he knew nothing about and punctuated his enquiries with more knives. Eventually Jack passed out and woke up back in the sarcophagus.

From there he was dragged off to a prison cell in which the directions 'up' and 'down' seemed to be variable. It was on the level when he was put in but then seemed to swap around so that he was at the bottom of a vertical shaft. Taken in conjunction with the behavior of the knives Jack guessed that maybe Ba'al was experimenting with some kind of gravity control. Then again maybe it was all done with magnets.

Jack stared up at the open door, too far up a sheer wall to be reachable, and saw a woman in black robes looking down at him. She was very attractive, from what he could see, and her clothes looked to be high quality. He had no clue who she was.

"Is it you?" she asked. Before Jack could answer she had turned and moved out of sight.

Jack lowered his gaze and scanned his surroundings. Sitting in a corner was the last person he would have expected to see. Daniel.

At first Jack thought that he was hallucinating, especially when he found that Daniel was intangible, but that wasn't the case. His old friend wanted him to join him in Ascension. Daniel pointed out that Ba'al would, inevitably, torture Jack to death repeatedly, reviving him in the sarcophagus each time, and eventually there'd be nothing left of him. He was probably right.

Somehow, though, Jack wasn't as frightened by the prospect as he might once have been. Ba'al's torture was only pain. Compared with what Vhonna had done to him, the degradation and humiliation her twisted mind had come up with to amplify the effects of the torture, it was… well, not exactly pleasant, but bearable. And the other members of SG-1 were free and, undoubtedly, looking for him.

"I think I'll pass," Jack told Daniel. "I stuck it out for ten days in the Hosttower. This is a cakewalk after that. Ask me again in ten days. Of course I expect that by then the others will be here and I'll be able to watch Cierre stick her flaming sword up Ba'al's ass."

"This place is a fortress, Jack," Daniel warned. "It's impregnable."

"So was the Hosttower," Jack said. "I'll wait."

Daniel sighed and disappeared. Shortly afterwards the cell changed its gravitational orientation and the Jaffa arrived to conduct Jack to another torture session. Again it didn't get Ba'al anywhere. Again, on his return to his cell, the woman looked in on him and uttered some cryptic words. And, once more, Daniel paid him a visit and harped on about Ascension.

The next time they took him out he found that Ba'al had changed his approach.

"You are a remarkable man, O'Neill," Ba'al said. Instead of fastening Jack to a metal grid the Jaffa had merely brought Jack to the chamber and then departed. A table and chairs had been placed in the room and Ba'al waved a hand toward them. "Take a seat. Help yourself to fruit," Ba'al offered.

"You know, in the 'good cop bad cop' system of interrogation, they usually get two cops to play the parts," Jack said. He considered picking up a chair and attempting to bash Ba'al's brains out. It would probably be futile, against the strength enhancements of a Goa'uld, and he decided to pass. He sat down and plucked something that looked like a mango from out of the fruit basket that stood on the table. "I hear it works better that way."

"I'm not familiar with the idiom but I believe that I understand the meaning behind the words," Ba'al said. "I have decided not to proceed further with the torture. It is getting me nowhere. You can feel the pain, that is obvious, but somehow it doesn't seem to bother you. I am intrigued."

"I spent way too long being tortured by a real expert recently," Jack said. "I don't mean to knock your techniques, I'm sure you're doing your best, but she wouldn't have been impressed. She didn't break me and you're not going to break me either."

"Oh? Which Goa'uld was this? Nirrti, perhaps?"

"Not a Goa'uld, just a human," Jack said, "but, and I never thought I'd say this, worse than any Goa'uld."

"Interesting," Ba'al said. "Where might I find this human?"

"In Hell," Jack said. "I smashed her skull."

Ba'al's eyebrows rose. "Interesting," he said again. "I sense that you are a formidable and determined warrior. No doubt I could indeed break you with torture, anyone will succumb eventually to sufficient physical pain and repeated sarcophagus use, but it could well take more time than I am prepared to spend. Torture gives me no gratification. It is merely a means to an end. If it will not serve then I must find another way to obtain the information I seek."

"It'll take more than bribing me with fruit," Jack said. He took a bite from the mango look-alike. "Hmm. Not bad. The problem is that I have no idea what the Tok'ra who controlled my body was doing. As far as I'm concerned I passed out, deathly ill, and woke up in the sarcophagus with your Jaffa standing over me. Whatever happened in between is a total blank."

"I believe you," Ba'al said, "but it is there, in your subconscious, somewhere. Bringing it to the surface would, eventually, be possible. I merely see no point in wasting my time on that task when I have more important projects that require my attention. No, I shall explore an alternative method. Any fool can inflict pain. It is my intelligence that makes me superior to lesser beings. That, then, is what I shall use to find out what the Tok'ra sought."

"You're going to employ the 'leetle grey cells' like Hercule Poirot?"

Ba'al arched an eyebrow. "Another factor in my decision to abandon the interrogation is that I am unable to understand much of what you are talking about," he said.

"I mean you're going to work it out by deduction," Jack clarified.

"Indeed so." Ba'al rested his chin on one hand and stared at Jack. "I have not, so far, taken a great interest in the Tau'ri," he said, "but I have heard some accounts of the deeds of those called 'SG-1'. You appear to attach a great importance to the concept known as 'honor'. The term 'chivalry' might apply. The Tok'ra spy must have completed his mission and left long ago. He returned only after taking you as a host."

"I guess so," Jack said. "You'd know better than me."

"I have not achieved any significant breakthroughs in my research lately," Ba'al went on, "and so I doubt if his return was directly connected to his spying mission. No, it seems that the event which triggered his decision was his taking you as a host."

"If you say so," Jack said.

"We of the Goa'uld tend to suppress the host's personality completely," Ba'al mused, "but the Tok'ra do not. Something about you came through and caused him to act in a fashion that, perhaps, was not entirely rational."

"Unfortunately it wasn't the part that likes watching _The Simpsons_ and grilling steaks with beer," Jack said, "or I wouldn't be here."

Ba'al ignored his comment. "He tried to escape with my Lo'taur," he said. "I had assumed that he was taking her as a prisoner, a hostage perhaps, but perhaps he was actually… rescuing her. Inspired by this strange Tau'ri code that you go by. In that case she must have been, not his prisoner, but his accomplice."

Jack remembered the beautiful woman who had peered in at him in his prison. He had a horrible feeling that Ba'al had worked things out correctly and that the woman would now suffer horribly. "Could be," he said, trying to appear unconcerned. "Bouncing ideas off me would work a whole lot better if I knew what's going on here. As I don't, well, you're wasting your time."

"Perhaps," Ba'al said. "It is most unfortunate that you seem to have been, effectively, immunized against torture. If you hadn't already killed that woman on… what was the name of that planet again?"

"Toril," Jack said, without thinking, and then groaned.

Ba'al smiled. "Thank you. I must try more of this interrogation by civilized conversation. It is more effective than I would have expected."

"So I've told you the name," Jack said. "Big deal. I don't know the co-ordinates. Hell, I'd probably tell you them if I did know them. It would serve you right. It's protected by Ascended Beings, like Kheb is, only some of them are pretty nasty characters. You might end up finding out about their torture techniques first hand."

"I think not," Ba'al said, "but that is a matter for another time. Let us return to the question of my Lo'taur's guilt." His smile grew slightly broader. "You reacted to my suggestion that she was the Tok'ra's accomplice. If you truly have no recollection of his deeds then this means that she must have spoken to you since your capture – presumably to urge you to keep a secret that you didn't even know you possessed. Delicious irony, indeed."

"I thought your Lo'taur was a guy," Jack said, remembering Daniel's report on the meeting of the System Lords he had attended in disguise.

"That is another, with slightly different duties," Ba'al said. He stroked his beard. "Now that the identity of the traitor has been determined, it only remains for me to decide upon a suitable punishment."

"Uh, how about exile?" Jack suggested, without much hope.

"That…" Ba'al began, and then he paused and tilted his head to one side. "Hmm. No, a more important question is how I can limit the damage that this has caused. The security of this project has been compromised. The Tok'ra are no doubt aware of the nature and the scope of my research. I doubt if it would be of much use to them and so they will presumably use their knowledge to cause conflict between myself and the other System Lords. Such research is, in theory, supposed to be shared. The others might take… violent exception to my having conducted it without their knowledge."

"Not been playing nice with the other kids, huh? Keeping your toys to yourself?"

"Correct," said Ba'al, apparently oblivious to Jack's sarcasm. "I will have to rectify this before the Tok'ra disclose their knowledge to Morrigan, or Lord Yu, at some time chosen to cause me maximum inconvenience. Luckily the gravity field has proved less useful than I had hoped. The inverse square law has limited the scale on which it can be used without prohibitive power expenditure. It's no use as a weapon and has only minor defensive applications. The only practical use I have found for it is in certain aspects of spaceship construction. If I pass it on to the other System Lords I won't be strengthening them to any appreciable extent."

Jack rolled his eyes. Now he was being bored to death by science technobabble from a Goa'uld.

"I suppose I should have Shallan executed in some suitably grisly fashion," Ba'al went on. "However then everyone will know she has betrayed me. I will lose face. If I dispose of her quietly her absence will be noted. The correct conclusion might be drawn." Ba'al stared into Jack's eyes. "Perhaps your suggestion of exile is not as stupid as I at first thought."

"I'm not just a pretty face," Jack said.

"If I announce that she is retiring from my employ, and shower her with gifts in thanks for her loyal service," Ba'al said, "then her betrayal will be a secret known only to me, and her… and you." His lip curled in a smile that Jack might have described as 'sardonic' if he'd been just a little more certain of what 'sardonic' actually meant. "Her successor will be impressed by my generosity," Ba'al went on, "and will be inspired to strive even more to gain, and maintain, my approval. Everybody wins. Or, at least, nobody sees that I suffered a loss."

Jack wondered if the 'retirement' would consist of three blasts from a zat and reduction to unidentifiable dust blowing in the wind. He kept silent.

"I'll send her away with you," Ba'al said. "She doesn't know anything of any importance. Her usefulness to the Tok'ra infiltrator can only have been in providing him with access to my chambers. The damage is done. You can take her to the world of the Tau'ri, hand her over to the Tok'ra, do what you will with her. For all I care you can feed her to carnivorous beasts – not that you will, of course, being a soft-hearted Tau'ri. What you will not do is to reveal the true reason why she's leaving. If you do then there is no reason for me to keep you alive and I'll simply kill both of you on the spot."

"Right," Jack said. "I won't do that. No I won't do that."

"Of course," Ba'al said, "I'll have to give some sort of reason why she's leaving with you. I know," he decided, and the sardonic smile returned, "I'll announce that the two of you are getting married."

"Oh, crap," Jack groaned. "Carter will kill me."


	11. Restaurant at the end of the universe

Author's note: I had several requests for scenes showing Cierre experiencing various aspects of Earth life for the first time, and I had intended to include them, but they didn't fit in with the flow of the story and I had to omit them. Sorry. I might write a separate piece on that theme later.

**Epilogue**

**The restaurant at the end of the universe**

"What the Hell am I supposed to do with her?" Jack asked. He was wondering aloud, not expecting an answer, but he received one anyway.

"Marry her," Cierre advised. "She is quite beautiful, by the standards of humans, and her duties for Ba'al have no doubt required her to become exceptionally proficient in the arts of the bedchamber. She regards you as attractive, and recognizes your heroism, and would be willing to become your bride. Air Force regulations prohibit you from acting upon the mutual attraction between yourself and Major Carter. Shallan would make an ideal substitute."

Jack wished, fervently, for the ground to open up and swallow him. Or at least to swallow Cierre. To judge by the color flaming in her cheeks Sam was wishing pretty much the same thing.

"Indeed there is logic behind her suggestion, O'Neill," Teal'c chimed in, "although it may not be in accordance with the social customs of the Tau'ri."

"Oh, for crying out loud," Jack said, "I'm not marrying her. That's that. Can you be serious for a moment?"

"My advice was not given in jest, Colonel," Cierre said. "I believe that you would find marriage to her to be pleasurable. 'The best magic item is a lover', as my people say."

Jack glared at her. "No. And that's final."

"I'm sure the Tok'ra would offer her a place with them," Sam said. "She was important enough to Kanan for him to risk his life – and yours – for her, and they'll respect that."

Jack shook his head. "Yeah, but I bet they'd keep pestering her to become a host," he said, "and I'm not a big fan of that idea."

"She is too young to do such a thing," Cierre said. "I would not do it, ever, but I can see that one who is old and ill might find it acceptable. Not a female in her prime."

"Maybe," Sam said, "but what's the alternative? She'd have to do a lot of acclimatization before she'd fit in on Earth. I think she'd be a fish out of water on Cimmeria, or the Land of Light …"

"But not Faerûn," Cierre put in. "If you will not marry her, Jack, then I think she would do well at the Moonstone Mask."

Jack glared at her. "I can't refuse to marry her and then offer her a job in a brothel as consolation prize. That's just… nasty."

Cierre raised her eyebrows. "If you say so. My understanding is that the girls of the Moonstone Mask are highly regarded in Neverwinter, and that they engage mainly in conversation and rarely grant sexual favors to the clientele, but I know only what I have been told by Sharwyn and could be in error. Regardless, it should be her decision."

"Yeah, well, you can be the one to suggest it to her," Jack said. "No way am I going to say a word on the subject." He sought for a distraction. "I've been out of the loop for a while. Any missions coming up?"

"We're going to get that radio link with Neverwinter established," Sam said. "If it had been set up we could have avoided having to send you to the Tok'ra. It's top priority now."

"Good," Jack said. "I'm all for that. Anything else?"

"The Tok'ra have asked that we make contact with their agent Khonsu, who is posing as a commander in the legions of Anubis," Teal'c said. "To do this we must allow ourselves to be captured."

"And won't that be a lot of fun," Jack muttered. "Still, probably better than getting married."

_The Other Guys…_

The Gate room was decorated for a presentation. Blue drapes hung in front of the stark grey walls, a red carpet had been laid on the Gate ramp, and a podium stood in front of the Stargate. General Hammond, Colonel O'Neill, and Major Carter, all in their dress uniforms, stood there to greet those being honored.

Civilian scientists Simon Coombs and Jay Felger, looking ill-at-ease in their smartest suits, made their way up the ramp. A crowd of base personnel looked on.

"For bravery in the face of grave danger," General Hammond announced, "I hereby award Simon Coombs and Jay Felger, each, the Air Force Civilian Award for Valor."

Jack lifted a box from the top of the podium, opened it, and removed two medals. He turned to face Coombs first.

"Despite the fact that you gentlemen disobeyed my orders," he said, "which, in my little world, constitutes screwing up… twice… the truth is, we wouldn't be here without you. You are true heroes." He pinned the medals on the scientists' chests and shook their hands.

Sam went to Coombs, shook his hand, and then gave him a brief peck on the cheek. He blushed. She repeated the procedure with Felger, who blushed even deeper, and told them "Thank you."

The crowd applauded. Cierre, who was at the front of the crowd beside Teal'c, stared at the two being honored. "Coombs is pudgy and unattractive," she remarked, "but Felger is passable and reminds me, in some ways, of Rodney. Would Air Force regulations prohibit me from thanking him by granting him carnal gratification?"

Jay Felger fainted.

_Allegiance…_

Cierre danced solo across the dusty ground of the Alpha Site. Her swords flashed and twirled. It looked as if she was engaged in a training exercise, running through whatever was the swordplay equivalent of katas, but it was in deadly earnest.

Jack watched through the optical sight of his P-90, aiming at the earth in front of her, alert for any sign of dust being kicked up by feet other than Cierre's. He'd been through an intensive course of Fighting Invisible Opponents 101 in Toril and the lessons had stuck. All he needed was one clear shot, or for Cierre to get in one good blow…

A spray of blood erupted from Cierre's face. The Ashrak's dagger stroke had probably been aimed at her throat, or her eyes, but her fast movements had thrown off the Goa'uld assassin's aim. Instead it ripped through her cheek.

A chorus of cries of dismay sounded from the throats of the watching Tok'ra and Jaffa. Not from Jack. He guessed what was coming.

Cierre's left-hand sword lashed upward. The dagger wound had given away where the Ashrak's arm had to be, and she retaliated, with the stroke that Jack had seen take off a man's arm at the shoulder on a previous occasion. This time the result wasn't as devastating, the Ashrak's reactions were much faster than those of the assassin in the Hosttower, but her glowing green blade sheared through flesh and bone and a hand suddenly appeared in mid-air. The severed extremity, and the dagger it had been holding, dropped to the ground.

The Ashrak howled. Cierre brought her flaming right-hand sword across but hit nothing. Jack saw what he had been waiting for; dust flying up as the Ashrak landed from a frantic leap backward. He aimed quickly and pulled the P-90's trigger. Droplets of blood spattered onto the dusty ground.

Cierre backed away, her twin swords whirling in a defensive box, leaving Jack and the others a clear field of fire. Teal'c unleashed a blast from his staff weapon and sparks shot up from the empty air as he scored a hit. Taking their cue from him the Rebel Jaffa warriors began to fire at where the blood trail gave away the Ashrak's position. The zats of the Tok'ra spat their electrical bolts at the same target. A member of SG-15 opened up with a M240B machine gun.

Jack saw a stack of supply crates shift slightly. He deduced that the Ashrak had leapt onto them, sprayed the air above them with bullets, and was rewarded with another cry of pain and more blood.

The air near the crates shimmered and an indistinct, fast-moving, bluish shape appeared. Sam, and the Tok'ra scientist Malek, had completed their jury-rigged conversion of a naquadah generator into a TER. The Ashrak was visible and was, obviously, running for his life. He swerved, dodged, and sought cover.

"Keep him away from the Gate," Jack shouted, as bullets and staff blasts kicked up the earth around the feet of the fleeing Ashrak, "and be careful what you're shooting."

The danger posed by the Goa'uld assassin was almost over now. Wounded, and disarmed in both senses of the word, he could never hope to escape Cierre for long. If he fled into the woods she would track him down and kill him. Only if he made it through the Gate, and told Anubis of the location of the Alpha Site, could he do any further harm. Jack was more concerned at the possibility of another Friendly Fire incident like the one that had already cost a Tok'ra his life.

Cierre, blood still pouring from her face and soaking her BDUs, sheathed her swords and switched over to her P-90. Teal'c marshaled the Jaffa into a firing line protecting the Gate. Jacob Carter/Selmak gathered the Tok'ra into a similar group covering Sam, Malek, and the naquadah generator. Both groups, and the surviving members of SG-12 and SG-15, fired at the Ashrak whenever he gave them a clear shot.

Something hit the Ashrak and sent him sprawling in the dirt. Two staff blasts passed over his prone body and then he scrambled up again, changed direction, and raced for a gap between two tents.

He ran straight into a staff blast that hit him in the centre of the chest and blew him backward. Sparks of electricity crackled over his body, the shimmering blue faded, and the Ashrak lay plainly visible on the ground. There was a charred hole the size of a football in the centre of his chest.

"Everybody cease fire," Jack ordered. "Stand down. We got him."

Master Bra'tac, visibly battered and bruised, limped into view from beyond the tents. He was using his staff weapon as a walking aid.

"Hey, good to see you, Bra'tac," Jack greeted the old Jaffa warrior. "We thought you were dead."

Bra'tac nodded to Jack. "The Ashrak thought the same thing," he said. "I was unable to move, and I do not know how long I was unconscious. My symbiote sustained me and I returned as soon as I could."

"Just in time to kill the bastard," Jack said. "Nice timing."

Cierre made her way to the Ashrak's body, used her hand-axe to cut off its head, and retrieved from its remaining hand the GDO that it had stolen earlier.

"You are a remarkable warrior, Cierre of Luruar," Bra'tac praised her.

"As are you, Master Bra'tac," Cierre responded.

Others were approaching now. Teal'c, and Rak'nor of the Jaffa, went to see if Master Bra'tac needed any aid. Janet Fraiser hastened to Cierre's side.

"That's a nasty wound," Janet said. "Bend down and let me take a look at it." Cierre was at least seven or eight inches taller than the diminutive doctor.

"There is no need," Cierre said. She touched her cheek with her finger-tips. "Flesh knit, bleeding stop, skin mend," she chanted. "All fixed now, Janet. Do you have a cloth with which I may wipe away the blood?"

"If everyone could do that I'd be out of a job," Janet said. She handed Cierre a piece of cloth, took the GDO in exchange, and passed it over to Jack. Cierre began to clean the blood from her face.

Malek of the Tok'ra approached Bra'tac. "I owe you my life," he said, "and I am ashamed that I did not do more to help you. I only hope one day I am given the chance to repay that debt. Forgive me." He extended his arm to Bra'tac, who clasped it Jaffa-fashion, and bowed his head slightly. Malek released his grip and turned to Cierre. "On behalf of all the Tok'ra I thank you for what you have done," he said. "You are a true hero."

Cierre's hand stopped mid-wipe. "No," she said, "I'm really not. I am merely good at killing. Better than that… thing. That is all."

"Oh, for crying out loud," Jack said, "stop putting yourself down, Cierre. You're a hero in my book."

"And in mine," said Martek. "You have undoubtedly saved many lives today, Tok'ra and Jaffa and Tau'ri, and I thank you on behalf of them all."

Cierre looked down at her feet. "Thank you," she mumbled. She really was much better at killing things, Jack thought, than at accepting thanks.

Bra'tac, with some assistance from Rak'nor, went over to the place where Cierre had dueled with the Ashrak and retrieved the fallen dagger from the blood-splattered ground. Then, as if struck by a sudden afterthought, he bent once more and picked up the severed hand.

He passed his staff weapon to Rak'nor and then held the dagger aloft. "This single blade," he called out to the ranks of Jaffa and Tok'ra, "has done what we could not. It has brought us together. This blade has spilled the blood of the Jaffa, of the Tok'ra, of the Tau'ri, and of the Drow. By the hand," he held up the body part in question, "of our common enemy, it has made us brothers. Together we have ensured that it will never spill our blood again." He tossed the Ashrak's hand aside and threw the dagger down into the dirt.

All over the base Tok'ra and Jaffa approached each other, holding out their arms, and clasped their hands in token of friendship. The Tau'ri joined in.

"I do love a happy ending," Jack murmured.

One of the Jaffa who went to clasp arms with Cierre was slow to release his grip. "You are truly a great warrior," he said, "and yet you are also a pretty woman."

Cierre shrugged her shoulders. "Among my people it is no unusual thing for a woman to be a warrior," she said. She lowered her eyes. "It is, however, unusual for anyone to call me 'pretty'."

Jack wasn't deliberately listening in but he overheard anyway. Cierre was right, he had to admit, she didn't often get called 'pretty'. Her broad face, and slightly slanted eyes, gave her a somewhat Oriental appearance that didn't fit American standards of attractiveness. In motion, especially when fighting with swords, it was a different story. The grace of her movements made her truly a thing of beauty.

And that Jaffa seemed to have noticed. He was big, even by the standards of that warrior race, a good six foot four and probably around two hundred and forty pounds of muscle and bone. His forehead bore a black tattoo, the winged emblem of Heru'ur, and he had a close-cropped beard and mustache.

"I would like to know more of your people," the Jaffa said, smiling at Cierre. "Will you share food with me, and tell me of them, and of yourself?"

"With pleasure," Cierre said. She smiled at him. "And you can tell me of the Jaffa. What is your name?"

The Jaffa returned her smile. "I am called M'zel."

_Cure…_

The planet was called Pangar. It was technologically about as advanced as Earth in the 1930s except for one particular medical development. Tretonin. A drug that gave its recipients benefits equivalent to the healing powers of a Jaffa's symbiote.

Of course there was a catch. Two, in fact. It was a one-way trip; once you'd taken the drug your original immune system was permanently disabled and you had to stay on the drug for life. Also, it was manufactured from Goa'uld symbiotes, the queen Goa'uld they were using to breed the symbiotes was aging prematurely from the intensive breeding and seemed to be dying, and the crazy fools thought they could go out into the galaxy and capture new queens to replace her.

Jack was steadily losing his enthusiasm for the whole affair. Yeah, if they got the bugs out of the drug it would probably be pretty neat, but it didn't offer anything the healing potions from Toril couldn't provide. And the idea of these guys wandering around trying to catch themselves a queen was… scary. They'd be like sheep trying to go hunting wolves.

Unfortunately they just didn't see it that way and kept moaning and complaining about everything. They moaned about the Tok'ra, who had been brought in to help fix the problems with the drug, not having been able to pull a miracle out of their ass and do in a couple of days what the Pangarans hadn't been able to do in thirty years. They whined about Jack not being willing to let them have the addresses of any Goa'uld worlds. They just wouldn't accept that they would be way, way, out of their depth.

"Look, there is no tactical advantage when you're dealing with the Goa'uld," Jack told their negotiators. "We've stayed ahead of them only because we don't bite off more than we can chew… usually. We've had some luck, and gained some allies, and had some success. But we've never captured a queen – Hell, Hathor captured _us_ twice – and, with respect, your military technology isn't up to the job. You'll just end up getting the System Lords pissed at you and next thing you know there'll be a couple of their mother-ships in orbit over Pangara. And they'll blow you back to the Stone Age."

"If you provided us with weapons to match theirs, then we could supply enough Tretonin for both our planets," the Pangaran military representative, Commander Tegar, suggested.

"We don't _have_ weapons to match theirs," Jack pointed out. "We can beat them on the ground, sure, but out in space it's a whole different story. If they sent a fleet here there wouldn't be a thing we could do to help. Let me give you a little hint. Don't get them mad at you in the first place."

"Our need is great," the civilian negotiator, Dollen, said. "We are prepared to take that risk."

Jack sighed. He rested his elbows on the conference table and leaned forward. "And we're not."

"I don't think you understand our position," Dollen said.

"With respect," Sam began, which probably meant that she was going to point out some uncomfortable truth, but she was interrupted.

Teal'c and Cierre, who had little interest in the negotiations and who seemed to make the Pangarans slightly uncomfortable, had been investigating the ancient temple in which the Pangarans had originally found their Goa'uld queen. Now they turned up at the door of the conference chamber.

They didn't look happy. The glare Cierre turned upon the guards at the door looked intense enough to kill.

Jack turned to face them. "Teal'c, Cierre, I'm guessing you have a problem?"

"I bring grave news, O'Neill," Teal'c said.

That wasn't good.

"Egeria," Cierre said. "Their captive queen is no Goa'uld. She is Egeria."

"Egeria? Are you sure?" Sam asked.

"The writings in the chamber are extremely clear," Teal'c said, "and our translators enable us to interpret them without error. There can be no doubt."

"Oh, crap," Jack said. "Have you told the Tok'ra yet?"

"We have," Teal'c said. "They are… displeased."

"And there is another who must be told," Cierre said. She turned back to the door guards. "Turn out the lights. This message must be delivered in darkness."

"I don't understand," Dollen said.

"Your people have enslaved the Queen of the Tok'ra," Teal'c explained. "She was imprisoned here by Ra because she fought to free humans from the rule of the Goa'uld."

"The Tok'ra will be seriously pissed," Jack said, "and that's putting it mildly."

"We could not have known," Dollen said.

"I guess not," Jack said, "but it isn't us you have to convince."

"Why do you ask for the lights to be extinguished?" Tegar asked Cierre.

"We must tell Egeria that we have found Egeria," Cierre replied. The Pangarans looked at her, looked at each other, and looked at Jack. It was obvious that they were totally confused.

"That's… a different Egeria," Jack explained. "Look, it would take too long to explain, just switch off the lights."

Dollen, his eyebrows climbing to heights that would have put the planet's dirigible airships to shame, signaled to the guards to do as requested.

"Okay, Cierre, call her," Jack said, once the lights were off. They weren't plunged into total darkness, as light filtered through the Japanese-style paper walls of the chamber, but Jack was sure it would be dark enough.

"It was you, Colonel, to whom she spoke," Cierre said.

"Oh? I thought she was speaking to Daniel," Jack said. "Okay, I'll do it, as long as I don't have to sing." He cleared his throat. "Lady Egeria, we've found the… other Egeria, and you told us to give you a call. Are you going to come here? Do you need the Gate address? Uh, over."

"To whom are you talking?" Dollen asked, his eyebrows climbing even higher. "I see no communication device."

"To me," a female voice said from behind Jack.

Jack saw the Pangarans' jaws drop. The last time he'd seen mouths open that wide had been when the team had taken Cassie to Cheyenne Mountain Zoo and they'd paused at the hippo enclosure.

"Hello, Lady Egeria," Jack said, and only then did he turn around.

"Greetings, Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter, Teal'c, and Cierre," the angel Egeria replied. She looked just the way Jack remembered her. Well, not as he'd last seen her, when she'd been wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around her hair, but when they'd first met. Black leather, dangling chains, tight purple top, and twin swords at her hips. And, of course, those wings.

"She… she… she has wings," Commander Tegar stammered.

"He has eyes," Egeria responded. Her tone sharpened. "Take me to my namesake. Now."

"This is Lady Egeria from the planet Toril," Jack introduced her. "I'd do as she says if I were you."

The Pangarans, still spluttering incoherent comments about Egeria's wings, and even more stunned when they realized that she stood something like seven feet tall, obeyed and led the angel, and SG-1, to the medical facility in which the Tok'ra queen was held captive. In their wake they left a trail of locals standing in stunned, staring, amazement.

At the facility they found Malek and Kelmaa of the Tok'ra engaged in berating the staff. The Pangaran archaeologist Zenna, who had led Teal'c and Cierre to the fresco recording the imprisonment of Egeria the Tok'ra, looked on from nearby with an unhappy expression on her face.

"She must be freed immediately," Malek was demanding. "Every moment she is kept in this condition is an affront to the Tok'ra."

"Impossible," the facility director replied. "It would condemn thousands of people… to…" He broke off and gawped at the angel.

Even the Tok'ra, who had seen innumerable strange things on hundreds of planets, were dumbstruck at the sight of the winged being. Jack performed a hasty introduction and then they were admitted to the facility and conducted to the other Egeria's holding tank.

Lady Egeria winced at the sight of the bloated symbiote. "You know," she said, fixing Dollen and Tegar with a cold gaze, "I'm really tempted to bestow some appropriate punishment upon your people. You have inflicted dreadful suffering on an innocent for your own selfish gain. Perhaps an earthquake in your capital city?"

"We had no idea," Dollen protested. "We thought she was a Goa'uld, a member of a race that conquered and enslaved without mercy, and that we were just doing to her what she would have done to us."

"It doesn't work that way," Lady Egeria said. "Be thankful that I am more merciful than you. Luckily she is not too far gone."

"You can help her?" Kelmaa asked, her eyes wide. "We thought her too damaged to save, except perhaps by immediately placing her within a host."

The angel snapped her fingers. A vial of dark green liquid appeared in her hand. "I believe so," she said. She poured the liquid into the tank. "Remove that electrode from her," she commanded, "and then put out the lights." The facility director obeyed.

Lady Egeria touched her hands to the surface of the water. "Greater Restoration," she intoned. "Heal."

Jack's eyes widened. He saw the symbiote shrinking, firming up, becoming… younger. When the changes were finished the Tok'ra queen looked not unlike the symbiote, fresh from the Jaffa's pouch, which Hathor had tried to implant in him. Paler, and a little bulkier about the middle, but pretty much as healthy in appearance.

"Amazing!" Malek exclaimed. He dropped to one knee and bowed his head to Lady Egeria. "You have saved our people."

"You have saved _our_ people," Dollen said. "She will be able to produce many more broods of…" He faltered, and his voice trailed away, as he quailed before the angel's hostile gaze.

"The earthquake was no idle threat," Lady Egeria told him. "Must I prove it? I could send the whole city sliding into the sea with but a word."

"Hey," Jack said, "that's… harsh. There's no need for an earthquake."

"No," said Malek, "do not smite them. We will be able to produce an antidote to remove their dependence on Tretonin, I am sure, and with Queen Egeria restored to us we will devote all our resources to that task."

"In that case," Dollen said, "I suppose we can release the symbiote… that is, your Queen."

"We must find her a host," Kelmaa said. "I believe I know of someone who may be interested."

Lady Egeria stayed on Pangara, rather to Jack's surprise, while they waited for the volunteer host. She spent some of the time talking to Cierre, giving her updates on how things had been going on Toril while Cierre was away, and also talked to the Tok'ra about Shar. Jack doubted if she'd actually win any converts, the Tok'ra just weren't religiously inclined, but then again the miracle had been pretty convincing. She treated the Pangarans, other than Zenna, with cool disdain but was willing to answer some of the archaeologist's questions in a reasonably friendly fashion. When she tired of that Lady Egeria started questioning Jack about the life and career of Jimi Hendrix.

After a couple of hours the Gate activated and four of the Tok'ra, plus one human woman, came through. Jack had seen the Tok'ra before, at the Alpha Site, but he was somewhat surprised when he recognized the human.

Shallan.

"Hey, are you sure you know what you're doing?" Jack asked her.

"I do," Shallan confirmed. "I knew, when I served Ba'al, that I might be called upon to become a Goa'uld host and I regarded it as an honor. I now know that I would merely have been a slave but this is different. The Tok'ra are good people and by this act I can help them and also repay Kanan for giving his life attempting to save me."

Jack, who looked upon the whole episode with Kanan in a rather different light, stayed diplomatically silent.

"Also," Shallan went on, "what woman would not want to be a queen, even if only part-time? Of course," she added, "I might change my mind if you have rethought your decision not to marry me…"

"Uh, ah," Jack spluttered, wishing he could turn to Carter for help, "I, uh, still think it would be a bad idea."

"Then there is nothing to turn me back from my decision," Shallan said. Ten minutes later she was lying on an examination table in the medical facility ready to receive the Tok'ra symbiote. Jack made sure he was nowhere near at the time. It was something he really didn't want to see. He went back inside only when it was all over and Shallan/Egeria was sitting up and talking.

"I sabotaged my young," Egeria explained to the Pangarans. "I deliberately passed on a flawed gene. That is why the drug did not work as you had expected, and why you were unable to construct an antidote. I hoped to force you to abandon your research and stop killing my children. Instead you just kept on making it in ever-increasing quantities. The worst of all worlds."

"We didn't understand," Dollen told her. "I humbly apologize."

"Apology accepted," Egeria said. "I am restored to health, and restored to my people, and I can bear you no grudge. I will inform Malek of the procedure necessary to develop an antidote. It is not complicated and will not take long."

"I thank you," Dollen said. "This is a better result than we could have hoped for."

"He ended a sentence with a preposition," Jack muttered under his breath. "An earthquake would be too good for him."

The Tok'ra Egeria turned her attention to the angel Egeria. "I do not know how to thank you," she said. "I was dying, without hope, and now… I am healthy, free, and sharing the body of a host both worthy and beautiful. It is beyond anything of which I could have dreamed."

"I was glad to help," the Egeria with wings said. "We share a name and, it seems, also share a sense of honor. If you wish to thank me, do so by remaining allied with the people of Earth, who you term the Tau'ri, who brought rock'n'roll to my world and thus brought joy to the heart of my mistress Shar."

"I shall," Queen Egeria said. She turned to Malek. "Shallan tells me that you do not freely share your technology with the Tau'ri."

"They are too rash to be trusted with everything," Malek said. "They would bring catastrophe down upon themselves, and upon us."

"If we were that rash we'd have blown ourselves up with nuclear bombs," Jack said. "We've had more than enough of them to blow up Earth for fifty years."

"Agreed," Queen Egeria said. "From now on, Malek, we share everything. The Tau'ri are to be equal partners. No restrictions."

"Very well, my Queen," Malek agreed, reluctant acquiescence evident in his voice and his body language. "Your wish is my command."

"My work here is done," the other Egeria said. "Farewell, my namesake. Farewell, Major Carter, Teal'c, and Cierre. Farewell, Colonel O'Neill."

Within seconds of them replying the angel was airborne, disappearing upward, at a speed that would have done credit to a fighter jet on afterburners.

"I wonder," Jack mused, "how she gets that leather jacket on and off with those wings?"

_Two years later – Threads…_

The diner was taken from Daniel's memories. His grandfather had taken him there after his parents' funeral. Well, not exactly to this place, but to one that had been the original from which this exact copy had been drawn. Daniel sipped at the coffee Oma Desala had served him, picked at his waffles in a desultory fashion, and tried to understand the rationale behind the whole affair. Oh, and tried to ignore the obnoxious fat man, Jim, who was the only one of the other customers who had spoken to him.

Daniel heard an odd series of clicks and whirrs, obviously mechanical in origin, and looked around for the source of the noise. There. A juke-box, gaudy and brightly-lit, standing against the wall. It was in keeping with the theme but still out of place; there had been no such juke-box in the diner of his memories. A record swung into place, revolved, and began to play.

Drums rolled and power chords blasted out. The diner door swung open, the 'ding' of its bell drowned out by the music, and a female figure strode in. Her skin was parchment white, her hair was as black as pitch, and she was clad from head to foot in black leather. Her head brushed the lintel as she entered; she must have been seven feet tall.

Oma Desala dropped her coffee-pot.

"_Saw him dancing there by the record machine_," the juke-box boomed, as the woman leaned against the door-frame and pulled off her leather gauntlets. Her gaze swept the diner and Daniel met her eyes for a moment; they were an intense shade of purple.

"_I knew he must'a been about seventeen,_

_The beat was going strong_

_Playing my favorite song_

_And I could tell it wouldn't be long_

'_Til he was with me, yeah me_

_And I could tell it wouldn't be long_

'_Til he was with me, yeah, me, singing_

_I love rock'n'roll_

_So put another dime in the juke-box baby_

_I love rock'n'roll_

_So come on take your time and dance with me…_"

The woman advanced into the diner, her hips swaying and her feet moving in time to the beat, and Daniel's eyes followed her. A man was 'dancing there by the record machine', as the song said, and he was even more exotic than the woman. He wore jeans and a leather jacket, as appropriate to the diner setting as if he'd stepped off the set of Brando's 'The Wild One', but his jet black skin and pure white hair were from somewhere else entirely. The sword at his belt, and the gun-metal domino mask on his face, were likewise out of place. And, like the woman, he was seven feet tall.

"A Drow!" Daniel gasped, and then felt a sudden heat and wetness on his legs and realized that, in his astonishment, he had allowed his coffee cup to tilt too far. Hastily he set it down, pulled out a handkerchief, and dabbed at his pants. He saw Oma engaged in a similar task, cleaning up the wreckage of the coffee-pot from the floor, using dustpan, brush, and mop rather than resorting to the powers of the Ancients. Daniel wasn't sure what rules governed this strange place but the denizens seemed determined to stick to them; even when something happened that surely couldn't have been in the script.

The woman joined the man and they danced together in front of the juke-box. Daniel gave up his attempt to dry his legs and watched them. They had to be from Toril; were they the same type of being as Egeria, except without the wings?

"_I love rock'n'roll_

_So put another dime in the juke-box baby_

_I love rock'n'roll_

_So come on take your time and dance with me!_"

One of the customers rose to his feet as Joan Jett's voice shouted out the final 'dance with me'. He had shown no flicker of interest in Daniel but could hardly ignore the pair of giant dancers and their loud music. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone cold.

The woman spun on her heel and faced him. The music had ended but she continued to sway her hips as if dancing still. "We merely visit," she said. "We are on our honeymoon."

"You do not belong," the customer said. "You are not welcome."

"Oh?" The woman arched a jet-black eyebrow. "And yet you tolerate the present of that… unclean thing." She raised an arm and pointed at Jim.

"Hey!" the fat man protested. He descended from his stool and took a couple of steps toward the woman. "Who're you calling an unclean thing, doll? Think you're better than me, huh?"

Daniel didn't even see the drow move. One moment he was beside the juke-box; the next instant he was by the counter with his right hand gripping Jim's throat. The giant drow lifted Jim into the air and held him up with his feet dangling a foot above the floor.

"Speak to my wife with respect, evil one," the drow commanded, "or I will crush you like the snake you are."

"Snake?" Daniel sat bolt upright as realization dawned. "Anubis!"

"You are slower of mind than I would have thought, Daniel Jackson," the woman said, "not to have recognized the creature before now. He is not the real Anubis, of course, but amongst the Goa'uld he uses that stolen name." The corners of her mouth turned up slightly in a hint of a smile. "I suspect that you don't even recognize us."

Daniel's forehead furrowed. "The Masked Lord," he said, looking at the drow. "Vhaeraun. Then," he went on, slowly, turning his gaze back to the woman, "you must be… Shar."

Shar's smile grew broader. "At last you open your eyes, Daniel Jackson," she said. She turned to Vhaeraun. "Put the Intellect Devourer down, my love," she said. "You can hardly sit down and drink coffee whilst waving the ugly creature about like a flag."

Vhaeraun obeyed by hurling Anubis to the ground like a WWE wrestler performing a choke-slam. Tables all over the room shook with the impact and coffee slopped over the edges of cups. Anubis lay still, stunned, and Vhaeraun and Shar took seats at Daniel's booth.

Shar held up a hand. "Two coffees," she called. "No, make that three, for Daniel Jackson has spilled his, and serve us food also. Waffles, and bacon, and… apple pie, for is that not the national dish of the land in which stands the original of this tavern?"

"Uh, yes, it is," Daniel confirmed. He realized that his mouth was hanging open and made himself close it.

"Three coffees," Oma Desala said, "waffles with bacon, and apple pie – is that for two or for three?"

Shar and Vhaeraun both looked at Daniel. "Uh, for two," he answered. Oma nodded and turned away.

Vhaeraun stretched out a long arm, snatched up a newspaper, and scanned the front page briefly. He showed something to Shar and then dropped the paper on the table. Daniel saw that the page had changed since he had read it previously. He picked it up, turned it around, and read the new headlines.

'Shar and Vhaeraun visit Astral Diner'. 'Anubis floored in altercation'. 'Daniel Jackson dines with visiting dignitaries'. The previous lead stories, still including the ominous 'Anubis plans to retake Dakara', had been moved to lower down the page.

Anubis scrambled to his feet. "Hey!" he protested. "Where'd you get off molesting me like that? That was assault. I should have you arrested, you bum."

Vhaeraun spoke without even turning his head. "Diplomatic immunity."

"I should have you _killed_," Shar told Anubis. "I would prefer not to do it myself, lest your evil contaminate me, but I might ask Kiaransalee to do it. She'll be only too happy to oblige."

"You can't do that," Anubis said. "There are Rules."

"Oh?" Shar turned in her seat and stared at him. "Rules that you have broken. You cannot, now, claim their protection. I play by my rules, and the obligations laid upon me by Lord Ao, and I will protect my worshippers. Proceed with your plan and you die."

The customer who had objected to Shar's entry stood up again and moved closer. "That is interference," he said. "It is not permitted."

"Uh, just why isn't it permitted?" Daniel asked. "Anubis is Ascended, right? So how come you'll stand by and let him try to wipe out all life in the galaxy, and you reckon that's fine, but when someone else Ascended wants to stop him you say it's interference? That's… garbage. Insane logic."

The customer glared at him, deigning for the first time to acknowledge Daniel's existence, and replied. "Anubis uses only the powers and knowledge available to mortals. He sticks to the letter of the Rules and thus we cannot interfere."

"Yeah," said Anubis. "It wasn't me who reactivated the Dakara super-weapon. It wasn't me who worked out how to rig the Gates to dial them all at once. It was Samantha Carter, and Selmak, and Ba'al. I'm just taking advantage."

"I do not accept that you use only mortal knowledge, creature," Shar said, "and anyway you use Ascended powers all the time. You inhabited a corpse. Can a normal Goa'uld do that? And only your invulnerability allows you to force mortals to obey your commands."

"Yeah? Well, I can't help being invulnerable. It goes with the territory, babe."

"It ends now," Shar said. "I shall give Ba'al a weapon with which he may slay you."

"What?" Anubis spluttered. "You can't do that! Crazy bitch!"

Vhaeraun half-turned and his arm blurred. Anubis reeled back clutching his nose. Blood oozed out between his fingers.

"I warned you, creature," Vhaeraun growled. "You will address the Lady Shar with respect. Nay, you will address her only from a position groveling on your belly before her, like the serpent that you are, and you will not raise your eyes above her divine feet."

Another of the customers rose to his feet and approached the group. He moved slowly and stopped well outside of the reach of Vhaeraun's arm. "You are giving a weapon that can kill the Ascended to a mere mortal? And a Goa'uld at that?"

"I am," Shar said. "You object? I care not. Return to your seat, and to your pointless meditations on the whichness of the whatever, and I will take action as I see fit." She turned away from the intruder. "Ah, our food is here," she remarked. "Thank you, Oma Desala."

Vhaeraun proffered a gold coin. "This would be forty-eight dollars American, I believe," he said. "Keep the change."

"It's on the house," Oma said. She set down the plates and poured out the coffee.

"You belong here no more than we do," Shar said. "How can you stand it? Trapped among these…" she swept her hand to indicate the customers and other staff of the diner, "…smug and self-satisfied fools. Forbidden to act when you could make a real difference."

"It was my attempts to make a difference that created… him," Oma said, pointing a coffee-pot in the direction of Anubis.

"So you made a mistake," Shar said. "I too have made mistakes. Some I have put right, some I still regret, but I do not let the fear of future mistakes rule my life. As a wise man once said, 'All that is necessary for Evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.' You try, unlike those fools, and that is why you have my respect and they… do not."

"Thank you," Oma said.

To Daniel she sounded uneasy, wary perhaps, and he guessed that it was not Shar who was the cause of her unease; it was her fellow members of the Ascended. He was on the verge of exclaiming 'Fascinating' but caught himself before he let the word slip out aloud.

Oma moved away and Shar turned her attention to Daniel. "They offer you a chance of Ascension, or at least their version of it, do they not?"

"Uh, they haven't exactly come out and said so," Daniel said, "but I think that's the general idea."

"Don't do it," Shar advised. "It is a trap."

"A trap?"

"For a man like you," Vhaeraun said, "who lives to help others, to be fettered by their absurd rules... you might as well be in a prison." He jerked his head in Oma Desala's direction. "Like the one in which she lives."

"Is that why I was cast out the first time I was Ascended?" Daniel wondered aloud.

"They took away your memories of that time, then?" A smile spread across Shar's face. "Hah! Memory is one of my Domains. To return them would be simple."

"No!" shouted the customer who had spoken up earlier. "You must not do that!"

"Please don't," Oma pleaded. "It would only bring him pain."

"I want…" Daniel began, and then stopped. Did he really want the memories back? From what he had been told by Jack, and had pieced together from other sources, he had indeed been trapped in a gilded cage. Tricked by Anubis, frustrated at every turn by the other Ascended, probably manipulated and eventually expelled… and had his attempt to persuade Jack to ascend, during his brief captivity in the hands of Ba'al, really been altruistic or an attempt to get his friend to join him in a different prison? Misery loves company… It was, however, the conviction in Oma Desala's voice that really swayed him.

"No," Daniel said. "I'm better off without them. Leave me as I am."

"As you wish," Shar said. "I trust you are not going to Ascend again."

"It seems pretty pointless," Daniel said. "To watch suffering and not to be able to help… I don't think I could stand it."

"I would invite you to join my staff," Shar said, "for I could use a scholar such as yourself, and your desire to aid those in despair would not be an issue. Quite the opposite. It is plain, though, that your heart belongs with your comrades at Stargate Command."

"That's right," Daniel replied, and then decided that he was being a little too casual in his conversation considering that he was speaking to a genuine goddess. An honorific would probably be appropriate. "Uh, my Lady."

"Your mortal body, however, lies bleeding to death in a disintegrating skyship," Shar went on. "I shall heal you and send you home."

"I have a few questions first," Daniel said, "if that's okay, my Lady."

"Not too many," Shar said. "I am the goddess of unrevealed secrets, after all."

"Uh, thanks," Daniel said. He paused and took a sip of his coffee while considering what to ask first.

"What the Hell!" A cry from Jim aka Anubis, who had been sitting at the counter applying napkins to his smashed nose, distracted Daniel. "Ba'al has turned on me. His ships have opened fire on mine." He directed a venomous glare at Shar. "This is your fault." Suddenly there was a long dagger in Vhaeraun's hand, poised for a throw, and Anubis gulped. "Your Majesty," he added hastily.

Vhaeraun lowered the dagger slightly but kept his gaze fixed on the fat man.

"Well, yes, of course it is," Shar said. "I dispatched Egeria to deliver the weapon to Ba'al upon the instant of making the decision. Now she is merrily dismembering your Kull Warriors." She grinned widely. "The coincidence of names must be rather confusing for the Jaffa. Perhaps they will thank the Tok'ra for their deliverance."

"You–" Anubis started to spit out what would undoubtedly have been an insult but chopped himself off short. He got down from his stool and made for the diner's door. Just before he reached it he turned back to Shar. "This isn't over," he growled.

"No," Shar agreed, "it isn't over until the fat lady sings." She pointed a finger at Anubis. "_That, that, dude looks like a lady_," she sang and his clothing transformed.

Instantaneously Jim was wearing a dress, a wig of blonde ringlets, and fishnet stockings. His cheeks were powdered and spotted with circles of rouge and his lips were caked with red lipstick. He snarled in fury and rushed out of the door.

"How… how do you do that?" Daniel asked.

"That shall remain an unrevealed secret," Shar replied. "I think we have time for another coffee, now. Would you like to see our wedding pictures?"

- 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 - 0 -

Teal'c, Cierre, and Bra'tac came through the Gate into the SGC. Jack met them at the foot of the ramp. "Good to see you," he said. "We were… worried for a while there. I wasn't far off setting the self-destruct."

"Indeed the situation appeared grave, O'Neill," Teal'c said, "but things are now under control."

"From victory to the briefing room, General?" Cierre suggested.

"Yeah, probably better than standing around here," Jack agreed. "Okay, if the next thing through the Gate isn't going to be the blast from the Dakara super-weapon, I can wait for a full briefing. I'll collect Carter and meet you there."

"It was quite remarkable," Bra'tac related, once all were seated around the briefing table. "Our position seemed hopeless. The rebel fleet in orbit was being defeated. Our ground forces were outmatched by the Kull Warriors. Cierre of Luruar led a group that achieved some successes but then became surrounded and trapped."

"To fall back would have been tactically correct," Cierre said, "but it would have left the way to the weapon open. I could not allow that."

Jack nodded. It was what he would have expected from the drow girl. She had, in her career with the SGC, repeatedly displayed the same dogged tenacity that had impressed him on Toril. And since M'zel's death she'd been even more careless of her own life…

"Then, when all seemed lost," Bra'tac went on, "a large contingent of the enemy fleet suddenly shifted targets and began to fire upon the other ships on the same side. They communicated with our fleet and declared that Ba'al had no quarrel with the Free Jaffa and had been forced by Anubis to join the attack. He proposed a temporary alliance."

Jack opened his eyes very wide. "Ba'al said that? What game was he playing?"

"When his fleet first attacked Dakara, at the command of Anubis, he advanced as slowly as he could," Bra'tac pointed out. "He was no willing ally of that creature."

"And he did help us destroy the Replicators, sir," Sam added.

"I am not foolish enough to believe that Ba'al can be trusted in the long term," Bra'tac said, "but in this battle, at least, he kept his word. He even carried out rescue operations to save the crew of a stricken rebel ship powerless in a decaying orbit."

"No doubt Ba'al recognizes that the power of the united Free Jaffa is too great for him to overcome, with his own forces depleted," Teal'c said. "His reign is doomed, now, but he must hope that he can preserve at least part of his realm intact. Staving off open war with the Jaffa for as long as possible is sound strategy."

"Ba'al's a snake," Jack said, "but I'll concede that he's pretty smart for a snake. Okay, so he switched sides. I guess that made the difference in the fight?"

"That was the case in the space battle," Bra'tac confirmed, "but on Dakara there was one further development. A most remarkable being appeared from out of nowhere. A woman with wings. Taller than any Jaffa and stronger than a Goa'uld. She wielded two swords that could cut through a Kull Warrior's armor more easily even than Cierre of Luruar's flaming sword. She turned the tide of the battle on the ground."

Jack's eyebrows soared. "Egeria? On Dakara?"

"Indeed," Teal'c and Cierre confirmed, in chorus.

"How come?" Jack stared at Cierre. "I thought you couldn't do that thing Sharwyn could do."

"I can't," Cierre said. "It was nothing to do with me, General. I can summon only animals native to climes of snow and ice, such as snow leopards and winter wolves, and I am no worshipper of Shar. Egeria would not have come at my call."

"Then…" Jack began. He looked at Carter. She looked at him. "You think?" Jack asked.

"It has to be," Sam replied. "I can't imagine how… but it couldn't have been anyone else."

"Of what do you speak?" Bra'tac asked.

"They believe that Daniel Jackson is responsible," Teal'c said.

"Me? Uh, not really."

The muffled voice was unmistakable but also impossible. Jack saw the shocked expression on Sam's face and guessed that his own expression would be a mirror image. "Anyone else hear that?"

"Daniel!" Cierre exclaimed. She jumped to her feet. "He is in your office, General."

Jack stood up and turned around. Before he could reach the office door it opened and Daniel walked out. The last time Jack had seen him, before he'd been abducted by the Replicators, Daniel had been dressed entirely in black. Now he wore a green shirt with rolled-up sleeves and grey chinos.

"Hey, Daniel," Jack greeted his friend. "How've you been? Dead? Ascended? You didn't call, you didn't write…"

"Welcome back, Daniel Jackson," said Teal'c.

Sam uttered a soft, but obviously heartfelt, "Daniel!" that was barely more than a breath of sound.

It was almost drowned out by Cierre's uncharacteristically exuberant "Well met, Daniel!"

"It is good to see you once more, Daniel Jackson," Master Bra'tac said. "I feared that you were dead."

"Uh, thanks," Daniel said. "I was only mostly dead. I think. Then, after that, I was sort of… mostly Ascended."

"No memory loss? And didn't they send you back naked last time, Daniel?" Jack raised his eyebrows. "I guess they provided a stop-off at a clothing store on the way."

"This was… different," Daniel said. "Oma Desala snatched me up, after I was stabbed by RepliCarter, but she didn't send me back here. That was Shar."

"Shar? How come?" Jack wasn't as startled as he might have been, if he hadn't been told about Egeria appearing on Dakara, but it was still something of a surprise. The surprise grew as Daniel related his experiences in the Astral Diner.

"So V…" Jack balked at trying the pronunciation and found an alternative, "…the Drow god smacked Anubis around and then Shar made him look like a fool." A grin came to his face. "Sweet."

"Who are those beings?" Bra'tac asked.

Jack left it to Daniel and Cierre to explain.

"Then they are not false gods like the Goa'uld?" Bra'tac asked, after listening for a minute.

"They are not," Teal'c confirmed.

For a moment Jack contemplated the implications of some Jaffa converting to the worship of the gods of Toril. It had to be a step up from thinking of the Goa'uld as gods, certainly, and might act as a stabilizing influence on the Jaffa. But if he heard of any Jaffa taking up the worship of Loviatar he'd personally go and shoot them in the face.

"Daniel, you said Shar sent Ba'al a weapon that could kill Anubis, right?" Jack turned to Bra'tac and Teal'c. "You didn't finish telling me about the battle before Daniel turned up. Please tell me Anubis is dead."

"Alas," Bra'tac began, and Jack felt his heart sink, "we were not able to confirm his death. Two enemy ships, one ha'tak and one tel'tak, fled the battle immediately following Ba'al's defection. I suspect that Anubis was aboard one of those ships."

"Aw, crap!" Jack gritted his teeth. "I was hoping we'd seen the last of him."

"No such luck," Sam said, "but at least he's been severely weakened. He doesn't have a Goa'uld queen now, and he's lost the facility on Tartarus, so he can't make any more Kull Warriors. He can't do too much damage with only two ships."

Jack groaned. "I hope you haven't jinxed us, Carter," he said.

"I'm not saying he isn't still a threat, sir," Sam said, "but we should be able to cope, as long as we watch out for him making another attempt to seize the Dakara super-weapon."

"It will not be possible for him to gain control of the weapon," Bra'tac said. "Many Jaffa lost their lives at Dakara. After that we were in agreement. It must be destroyed."

"Good," said Jack. "It came in handy against the Replicators but, with them gone, something that could wipe out everyone in the galaxy is just too damn dangerous to keep around."

"Indeed, O'Neill of Minnesota," Bra'tac said, "that was our conclusion."

"Well, with that out of the way, Carter's probably right about Anubis not being too much for us to handle," Jack said.

"And he has a couple of really bad enemies now," Daniel added.

"Yeah," said Jack, and grinned. "I wish I could have seen…" he concentrated, "…Vhaeraun giving Anubis that poke in the snoot."

"It was almost worth getting stabbed for," Daniel said, "but not quite."

"Will not Anubis seek to gain revenge?" Bra'tac asked.

"Probably," Daniel said, "but I wouldn't worry about it. He's only half-Ascended. Shar and Vhaeraun are the real deal. I can't see what he could do to harm them."

_One year later…_

"Unauthorized Gate activation!"

Major-General Landry made his way to the Gateroom as the alarm sounded.

"Receiving IDC, sir," a technician reported. "It's…" he paused. "Sharwyn? I don't recognize the name."

"Toril, sir," Walter Harriman put in. "She was with SG-1 in Neverwinter. They said they'd given her an IDC."

"Open the iris," Landry ordered. "Have SG-1 called to the Gateroom." He didn't dismiss the guard detail; they stayed in position with their weapons trained on the Gate.

The event horizon parted and a figure stepped through. A beautiful woman, dressed in a black shirt and pants, with long red hair held back by a golden band. In one hand she held a staff, tipped with sword blades at each end, and the other held the neck of a guitar. Landry nodded to himself. She certainly fit the descriptions of Sharwyn that he'd read in the old SG-1 mission reports.

The woman glanced around her surroundings and smiled. "_I'm on another planet with you_," she sang, and then focused her gaze on the guards. "Lower your guns, I am not here to do you harm," she said. "I am Lady Sharwyn Laummyr and I wish to see Colonel Jack O'Neill, or his leader General Hammond."

The men didn't relax. Hathor had been a beautiful redhead too. Landry stepped forward.

"Welcome to Earth," he greeted her. "I'm afraid General O'Neill and General Hammond are no longer here. I'm Major General Landry and I'm in charge of the SGC now."

"Jack's been promoted? That's great," Sharwyn said, with a beaming smile on her face. "Well, not great from my point of view, of course, but great for him. Please send him my congratulations."

"I will," Landry agreed. Before he could say anything more the members of SG-1 arrived in the Gate room.

"Sharwyn!" Cierre exclaimed, almost in a squeal. Her normally impassive face lit up with a smile.

"Stand down," Landry ordered the guards. They lowered their guns and, now assured that the new arrival was a friend, trained frankly appreciative gazes at her instead.

"Well met, Cierre," Sharwyn said. "Well met, Daniel Jackson. Teal'c! You have hair. So, then, your people are free?"

"They are," Teal'c confirmed. "It is good to see you, Sharwyn of Neverwinter."

"Well met, Samantha Carter," Sharwyn continued. She directed her attention toward a dark-haired woman, unfamiliar to her, who occupied the position beside Daniel. "And who is this who stands with you in Jack's place?"

"Actually I've taken General O'Neill's place," Sam told her. "I'm a Lieutenant-Colonel now and I'm in command of SG-1."

"Then you too have my congratulations, Samantha," Sharwyn said.

"This is Vala Mal Doran," Sam introduced the final member of the team. "She's not really an official member of SG-1. She's sort of… attached herself to us."

"Literally, for a while," Daniel muttered.

Vala gazed at Sharwyn. The set of her brows indicated suspicion and slight hostility. "I hope you're not here after my Daniel," she said.

"I am not _your_ Daniel," Daniel protested. "And Sharwyn's just a friend."

"Oh. In that case, hello," Vala said.

"She's quite a fighter," Sam said to Sharwyn, "and she's sneaky. She's… the thief in our party. Like our version of Tomi."

"Ah." Sharwyn smiled. "Of course." Her smile disappeared. "I could wish that this meeting had come in better circumstances."

"Trouble?" Sam asked.

"Indeed so," Sharwyn said. "I am here to ask for help."

"I'll be happy to assist, if it's in our power," General Landry said. "The medicines from your planet have saved a lot of lives. I'll need to know more specifics, of course, and this isn't the best place for a discussion. Please come with us to the briefing room."

"Of course, General," Sharwyn said. She shrank her staff down to flashlight size, pocketed it, and stepped from the ramp.

Cierre moved to position herself at Sharwyn's side. "It is so good to see you again, trusted friend," she said, as they followed the General up the stairs to the briefing room. "I have much to tell you."

"And I have much to tell you, Cierre," Sharwyn replied. A hint of a smile returned to her lips. "I see that you are bedecked with weapons as always. If I did not know of your strength I would be amazed that you can even stand up."

Cierre still wore two swords at her back and her hand-axe slung at one hip. At the other hip rode a pistol; not a standard issue M9, but an FN Five-seveN firing the same armor-piercing ammunition as the P-90 that hung from a sling at her shoulder. "One can never have too many weapons," she said. "We were due to go on a mission soon. I like to be ready well in advance."

"I know," Sharwyn said. "I remember from when we adventured together."

They reached the room and General Landry invited Sharwyn to take a seat. "So, young lady," he said, "how can we help you?"

"The Goa'uld have discovered Toril," Sharwyn told him.

"Uh-oh," Daniel said. "That doesn't sound good. And now I'm channeling Jack."

"They are invading by stealth," Sharwyn went on. "Their leader uses the name Zehir but my divine mistress tells me you know him as Anubis. He is a demi-god."

"Uh-oh," Daniel said again. "I thought we'd seen the last of him. But she's going to kill him, right? She said she would."

Sharwyn shook her head. "She is barred from so doing," she said. "He uses only the powers of a mortal of his kind. For her to attack him directly, while he sticks to that rule, would provoke conflict with the gods of other worlds and would thus incur the wrath of Lord Ao. She cannot risk that, not at this time, when so much is at stake."

"So much at stake?" Daniel's brow furrowed deeply. "More than letting your world be overrun by the Goa'uld?"

"Yes," Sharwyn said. "I can say no more at this time."

"I take it that the help you want is military?" said Landry.

"Indeed," Sharwyn answered. "It can be summed up by something I said to SG-1 shortly after I met them for the first time." She directed her gaze at Sam. "Load up on guns and bring your friends."

**The End**

Disclaimer: lyrics quoted in this chapter are from 'I Love Rock'n'Roll' (Joan Jett and the Blackhearts), 'Dude (Looks Like A Lady)' (Aerosmith), 'Another Girl, Another Planet' (The Only Ones) and 'Smells Like Teen Spirit' (Nirvana).


End file.
